


Minor fics that I came up with

by DiggaDink



Category: Berserk (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Child Death, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Rape/Non-con, Physical Abuse, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Secret Crush, Sexual Abuse, Zombie Apocalypse, alternate universe - skyrim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25838152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiggaDink/pseuds/DiggaDink
Summary: Just a collection of fics that I probably won't expand on. Rating varies in each chapter.
Relationships: Griffith/Guts (Berserk), Griffith/Nosferatu Zodd, Griffith/Original Male Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	1. My Dog is a Matchmaker

He doesn't know how he managed to fall asleep on the bench at the dog park, but he did somehow. Chaos was missing from the gated area he was loose in. They were the only inhabitants but Guts began to fear what happened to him. What if he was stolen or hopped the fence only to get run over by a car? There was a two lane street just next to the park.

He began to panic and ran around the park frantically screaming his name, stopping random people to ask if they've seen an all black pitbull terrier running around. Guts ran himself down until he was absolutely exhausted and couldn't run anymore. "If I were a dog, where would I go?" He ponders to himself. Just across the street was a sub-division. Fancy, expensive looking homes. A place where he wishes he could live. Chaos probably ran in here, drawn to the scent and noise of other dogs within these homes possibly.

While rounding a corner, he spots Chaos stuck to a white poodle on the front lawn with a very pissed off woman who he assumes is her owner, "Shit." He mumbles and approaches the impressive home. Guts was out of breath and could barely speak, "I'm sorry miss, he left my sight for one moment."

She angrily folds her arms and spins around on the balls of her feet to face him. She was oddly… attractive, "So, I assume this is your dog?"

Guts gasps. This was no woman at all based on that voice, "Oh, shit. Uh, sorry about that. It's just, well you looked like a woman from behind."

"Hmph." He pouts. This must happen a lot. 

Guts sighs, "He must've hopped the fence at the dog park and followed her scent in here."

"You're lucky he didn't lead her on and get them both ran over by a car. The main street is right there." He points in its direction.

"I don't even know what to say other than sorry." He sighs, defeated.

The other man rolls his eyes, "You should've gotten him fixed."

Guts frowns. What a hypocrite, "Mind you, your bitch isn't fixed either."

He scoffs, "This 'bitch' was a gift to me yesterday so fuck off! She was due for spay surgery next week, better call the vet to cancel it. Thanks a lot."

"Either way, you knew your powder puff was in heat yet you let her outside anyways."

He turns to face him and his frown deepens, "Really? This is my fault now? Excuse you, but this is my fucking house, she's allowed to be outside on her own private property, whereas, your dog was unrestrained and approached her first!" The man raises his voice and angrily points his finger at him to which Guts nervously looks away.

"Y-yeah? Well, you don't even have a fence around your front lawn!" Was his only weak retaliation and his face heats up in embarrassment.

"So what? She was within the boundaries of my property and she did not even step over the sidewalk before your dog was mounting her!"

Guts smirks at him, "Well then, looks like we're both in the wrong here."

"No, it's just you." It's taking them longer than predicted to separate, "At the end of the day, your mutt should've been on a leash, it's the law."

"He got away from me, it was an accident. You act like I let him loose on purpose for the sake of knocking up your expensive purebred bitch."

"Then you should've kept a better eye on him you fool. It is not my job or anyone else's to watch your dog." Fair enough. It was his fault. Had he not fallen asleep on that bench, they wouldn't be in this situation. Guts frowns and tries to hide the amorous blush to his cheeks.

Tense, awkward silence between them. The only sounds he heard were the exhausted panting of the dogs. Guts should try to strike up a conversation. This won't be the last time they'll see each other, "So," he pauses awkwardly, "What's your name?"

"It's Griffith." He sternly replies.

"Look, will you stop being mad at me?" Guts asked, "It happened and now it can't be helped. Just accept it-"

Griffith impatiently taps his foot, "You are going to reimburse me for every single cent I spend raising these pups because I just know your punk ass won't be around to help me raise them and find them a home. You're going to take your dog and leave, never to be seen again."

"What the hell gave you that idea? Who said I wouldn't be around to help, of course I'm going to help! I'm just trying to be the nice guy here and make amends." He holds his hand out, "Come on, for her and the sake of the pups, we should work together."

The other man stares down at his hand and sighs, "Fine." He shakes his hand, "You are going to help me raise all of them and find them a home. Deal? No backing out early, you're going to help me until every last one of them gets adopted." The grip on his hand tightens.

"Deal." Guts squeezes his hand back and then lets go. They finally separate and Griffith leans over to pet his poodle, "What's her name?"

"Royale." He answers, "You had better do your part." Was all he had left to say to him before he's dragging her back into his house by her pink rhinestone collar.

"Whoa." Guts stares in awe and Chaos whimpers as he takes Royale away, "Quiet down, this won't be the last time we'll see them thankfully."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spay n neuter your dogs or end up like these two stupid mfs


	2. Chapter 2

Senior year. New year, new semester, new season and new freshmen to harass. Same old Griffith. Still waiting to run away the moment he turns eighteen this winter, out of this dump to never come back. He hardly even got along with his own mother. They didn't see things eye to eye and arguments were frequent amongst them. He hardly talks to her, and she hardly speaks to him. She doesn't want him to leave or do anything for himself much to Griffith's dismay. Maybe it's because she'll be lonely without him since his father abandoned them, ditched them before he was born. Their apartment was ugly on the outside, but it was the best looking building on the block at least. Every other structure is boarded up, abandoned, or just plain shitty looking. 

This side of town wasn't really the friendliest. Shootouts were frequent, whores and drugs were everywhere. He'll get out of here someday and be on the top of the world. Fame, money, glory it'll all be his and everybody would know his name. He'll never have to come back to this shit hole he calls a home ever again.

His bitchy manager snaps him out of his thoughts, "It's Sunday, the church crowd is still here and getting worse. We don't need you zoning out while your station is running empty." God he hates her, and he hates the other managers too. Griffith only silently nods in response. This is what he gets for working at a restaurant, a buffet at that. No matter, the pay was decent but the labor was tough. He works the bakery section, baking pies, cakes, cookies, and any other sweets people were craving. The hard part was managing the entire section alone while needing to prep for the morning shift, and having to put up with snappy customers when something is running on empty.

"God dammit, if I hear one more person ask about cotton candy one more time I'm going to lose it." Griffith mumbled under his breath, hastily stirring up cake batter. That was the first thing that always ran out, children grabbing bags upon bags of cotton candy. He'd constantly have to drop everything and make more which puts a delay on everything else. This restaurant was clean, not a single rodent or insect infestation in sight, but it did not give a shit about the safety of employees and has violated several safety protocols. On more than one occasion, he's considered being a snitch and getting OSHA involved. Griffith has been burnt in the same spot several times because their oven mitts suck, damn near pass out from over exertion, and constantly gets his fingers nicked by the cotton candy machine because they refuse to give him a wand.

It's Sunday and the restaurant is packed. These fucking people are so entitled, so bitchy, demand so much, and are quick to complain to the managers who don't even give two fucks about their lame complaints. At least these managers always took their worker's side of the story when a customer moans over something stupid. Somehow someway, he manages to hold it together through the rest of the rush. It partially clears out, but there's still mostly old people left behind. He can finally rest easy and turn his back on his station while he finishes up on his prep. If he doesn't get this done today, the morning shift will give him an ear full.

7:00 pm, almost closing time at 9:00. The best part about this job was going home and free endless food for employees on lunch break, "Just me for now." A voice responds to the cashier. For some reason, out of all the chatter around him and the hum of the nearby ice cream machine, his voice stuck out. It makes him glare up from the pie he was cutting. This stranger was tall, dark, and had bruises on his face. He remembers him, they go to Midland High together. Griffith doesn't know his name, but he recalls seeing him start a fight after school outside in the parking lot last year on the last day of school before summer break. It was four of them against him and he threw the first punch. Despite being outnumbered, he escapes with only a black eye whereas everybody else was bleeding all over the concrete and laid out partially unconscious. It was chaos and everyone filmed the entire ordeal then the crowd scattered when the police showed up.

He quickly averted his gaze while he walked by to pick out a table. Griffith couldn't help but feel so… Enraptured by him. Everything about him is strangely alluring. He isn't the ideal lover, he's shady looking, husky, covered in bruises, doesn't speak much, and always looks pissed off. The type of person any parent would disapprove of their daughter bringing home. It's a good look on him and Griffith couldn't get enough.

It took him a moment to stop staring and resume with his prep. There were still cakes that needed to be decorated and he hasn’t even started on making the damn banana pudding. When Griffith returns from the backlines with a cart full of ingredients, he’s relieved to see him still here. They briefly made eye contact when he came over to look at the many options of desserts. Griffith only smiles at him and he smiles back. He felt like his heart could explode inside of his chest and for once this feeling wasn't brought on by over-excursion. He didn't pick anything, not yet at least. He’ll be back. Griffith sets out more bags of cotton candy for eager little kids to snatch up, “Now, now, don’t be greedy.” Their mother scolds, “What do you say?” 

The four of them froze for a second then looked at him, “Thank you!” Their mouths were covered with pink and blue cotton candy dust and their fingers were sticky.

“No problem.” He grins and their mother reached into her purse to tip him. It was a sweet gesture that almost never happens to him because he normally never received tips. Only servers did. He humbly accepts her token of gratitude and waves her goodbye as she leads her children out.

"Which of these do you recommend?" A voice calls over the loud hum of the machine as he ponders over the choices of pies, cakes and cookies. Griffith turns around and tries to pull the pieces of cotton candy out of his hair and dust his apron off. 

He hates how sloppy he looks, face covered in a fine layer of sweat, cake batter all over him, this ugly ass hair net on, and pink cotton candy dust in his hair and on his face, "The cheesecake, definitely." Griffith points it out on the counter. With that, he takes a slice and returns back to his table. "Damn, look at me. I'm such a mess." He sighed. He takes pride in his appearance, everyone has always told him he's pretty and plenty of people have secret crushes on him. To look this messy in front of someone he was smitten for was a mood killer.

He returns for another slice, "You were right, this really is good." 

Griffith blushes and smiles and he smiles back, "It's probably my favorite item on the menu here.” He felt like his heart could melt, he's hot all over and these ovens aren't helping. Somehow, his slow day got better just from this stranger walking in.

He burns himself yet again on his left bicep and fingers for the fourth time, yet another scar to the mix there, "Fuck." He swears, almost dropping the large tray of cookies. Griffith sucks it up and resists the urge to shout. This one's a second degree burn and the worst one so far. He should really consider wearing long sleeves under this shirt.

"You okay?" A voice chimes in.

He blinks away the tears welling up in his eyes, "Yes, I'm fine. Not the first time this has happened." Griffith grins despite his painful burn. The man only nods as he steps away to the salad and fruit bar nearby.

Time slipped his mind while he's preparing peach cobbler for morning, but he notices the stranger leaving. Griffith waves him goodbye, "Have a nice night." He called out to him.

"You too." He responds. Griffith smiles to himself as he sweeps the floor. Nobody else came in for the rest of the night until the doors were locked at closing time. He hastily began his closing routine. First clean the cotton candy machine, place all food he prepped that day in the fridge, mop the floors, and then disassemble the ice cream machine to clean it out. Last came the chocolate fountain, the messiest of all to clean. He hates it so much and always will.

“Oh?” Casca chimes in from the other side of the counter, “Someone’s in love.” She playfully bats her eyes at him.

Griffith jokes, “Oh, me? How could you tell?”

“I’ve been watching you the whole time over there,” She gestures to her section, the salad bar, which was next to the bakery, “You’re not even trying to be subtle anymore. I saw the way you were looking at him."

He turned off the machine and began to take apart the chocolate fountain in parts, “What can I say? I like what I like. He goes to our school and I’ve seen him before when he started that fight last year but I never realised how attractive he was until now.”

“Gonna talk to him next Monday?” She asked.

“Maybe.” He responds.

She wipes down her station, "Don't get cold feet. He probably isn't even all that intimidating, might be a friendly nice guy."

Griffith chuckles to himself, "Certainly doesn't look the part."

"You like bad boys, huh?" She teased.

Griffith blushes, "N-no!" He places the parts into a bin to be taken to the back for the dishwashers to wash. He quickly speeds by Casca who kept making kissing noises at him. When he returns, she's there to help him scrub the floors within his section, "Wow, you're finished already?"

She scoffs. "Closing the salad bar so easy, in fact, it's easy in general. Except for when they force me to make omelets during morning shift," She shivers, "Ugh."

"Hey, at least the managers help you, yeah?" He pours the bucket of cleaning solution on the floor, "I would but I'd be backed up too, every single child in here bothers me over cotton candy and cookies." When they were finished, they cut the lights out and everyone exits the building together. 

They took the brief walk back to their homes just across the street from the restaurant. Casca waves at him as she makes a turn towards the next street, "Call me when you get home so we can talk about you know who. I know you can't stop thinking about him." She winks.

The last week of summer break went by so fast. Before he knew it, it was Monday morning, 6:30 am. He's going to talk to that boy one way or another. Maybe they'll be scheduled for a class or two together. Griffith couldn't help but feel giddy as he gets ready for school. He wears his hair half up half down and applies his favorite lip gloss, the kind with a slight red tint to it. It's been awhile since he's been this head over heels in love with someone. Wait. What if he isn't even into guys? No matter, they can still be friends. He's out the door earlier than usual and eagerly waits on the bus.

"Well, well well. You gussy yourself up this morning?" Casca scoots over on the seat to make room.

Griffith sits down next to her, "Of course. I'm going to talk to him today if it's the last thing I'll do."

She smirks, "Man on a mission, everyone better stay outta your way."

He sits up to glare above the seats and everyone's heads, "Too bad he doesn't ride the bus, would've been a perfect way to introduce myself."

Casca playfully elbows his side, "He might have a nice car for all we know."

Guts sighs out of frustration and tries again, twisting the key in the ignition only for his shitty car to rev up and fail to start yet again. "Fucking start!" His hands squeeze the steering wheel so hard, they hurt. He gives himself a moment to calm down and tries again. 

"Yes, because yelling at it helps."

Guts glanced towards his house, "Ugh." He sighs. Gambino, this fucker standing on the small front porch. He used to look up to him, but now he hates him and all of his dirty ass friends who frequently come over to get drunk and make a mess of things. Ever since his mother died, he hasn't been right in the head. The older Guts got, the more they began to hate each other. They lived in a shitty mobile home together within an entire neighborhood of equally shitty mobile homes. Going to school and work was great, because he gets to get away from Gambino all day long.

Finally, his shitty, outdated Wrangler started. It was used, abused, rusted everywhere, constantly had trouble starting, missing its right door, and the air conditioning is broken. A hand me down. He wonders precisely what the hell Gambino could've possibly done to it for it to get this bad? Jeeps can last forever, and it'll take a lot to fuck them up. Guts shoved the thought out of his mind and sped off without a word.

First period: Gym. Really, this early? "Who the hell wants to be forced to exert themselves and run laps at 7:30 in the morning?" He complains out loud. Griffith ought to go to the front desk and make them change this shit. Give him something easy, like art. Speaking of art he actually had ceramics last period. 

Casca stares at his schedule within his hands, "Well, it should be easy enough, it'll take a special kind of stupid to fail gym class. All you have to do is show up." He'll show up for attendance, then disappear before anybody knows he's gone, "If you'd like, I'll ditch with you. I have health first period, we can go hide underneath the visitor's bleachers at the soccer field, nobody ever goes back there."

"Whoa. For my science credit, I got high honors biology."

All of his friends gather at his locker before class to talk about their schedule and compare. Casca realised she got placed in high honors biology just like him and she started to freak out, “What if I don’t pass?” She states, “What if I just got lucky last year on the finals? Biology is hard!"

Everyone was quick to reassure her, "Aw, come on, Casca. You're smart, you can do it." Judeau pats her back, "Besides, you've got Griffith to help you," He smiles, "And cheat off of."

Corkus, who was in the process of devouring an entire bag of chips chimes in, "You'll be fine, I cheated off of him last year in geometry. He saved my ass." She’s smart, she can do it no problem, besides, she's got Griffith to help like everyone said. The two can help each other out. While everyone else discussed their classes, Griffith’s mind wandered back to that boy and he pondered what classes he got scheduled for.

Today was an easy day, all teachers going over the syllabus, introducing themselves, and of course, forcing everyone to talk to each other. "Please stand up and introduce yourself to the class" or "Talk amongst your partner and tell us something about them" type shit. Guts hates when teachers force him to speak to these fucking people. The moment any teacher says "Find a group" makes him roll his eyes so hard, his head hurts. Nothing else interesting happens for half the day. Nobody ever really approaches him because they might be afraid of him. He looks like he could be an assassin, he hardly speaks unless spoken to first, and covered with bruises he’d received from Gambino during their many fist fights. Sixth period comes, it's lunch.

Sadly, Griffith still hasn't gotten a single class with that guy yet, and the day is almost over. His sixth period is lunch, then there's only two more classes to go until dismissal. This isn't looking too good and he's pissed about it. He enters the cafeteria early to skip the long ass line that piles up. With his tray in his hands, he picks out the usual table against the wall. He's alone for now, but soon the crowd builds up and more students find a place to sit. Griffith is greeted by some of his friends who were also scheduled for sixth period lunch.

He impatiently taps his foot on the floor and is relieved when Casca walks in, "Bad news, the day's almost over and I haven't seen him at all." Griffith sighs, "What if we don't have a single class together again?"

She reassures, "Hey, calm down. The day isn't quite over yet. It'll be okay."

He sighs, "You're right." Griffith pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I actually saw him come into the classroom this morning after health, so he's got health class for second period at least, maybe you can go and try to talk to him before class begins?" 

"That's on the other side of the campus though, too far from the gymnasium." He answers.

She smiles, "Griffith, relax. Who knows, you might even have a class with him next period." She leans against the wall to drink her bottle of water. They discuss what they’ve done over summer break, talk about their teachers, etc. He remained quiet, quieter than usual and just listened.

Out of the corner of his eye, a large figure wearing mostly black caught his attention. It's him, finally at last. He watches him silently wait in line with his headphones on, "There he is." He whispers to Casca.

She smirks, "I told you he'd show himself eventually." He never seems to show any emotion. His face is always blank, "Quite the loner, huh?"

When he grabs a lunch tray, Griffith eagerly waits for him to find a place to sit, "I'll just wait until he-" Much to his dismay, he leaves the cafeteria entirely, "What the fuck?"

"What are you waiting for? Go, he's alone." She shoves at his side. Griffith swings his book bag over his shoulder and leaves the table to go after him.

"Hey, Griff, where ya goin'?" One of his friends, Corkus, calls out, "Can I have your pizza?"

He keeps his distance while he follows him into the student lounge. Computers on one side, tables, couches, and bean bags on the other. Large tv screens in a corner where some kids gather to play video games and a ping pong table near the entrance. Griffith spots him having a seat at a table in the corner alone and begins to eat his lunch. He shouldn't be doing this, following him around and watching him. It's weird and creepy. Normally, he wouldn't have a problem speaking to a stranger, one of his greatest strengths is charisma. However, for some reason, he can't find it within himself to initiate anything. Someone so brooding and intimidating wouldn't be interested in someone like him at all. He thinks about leaving and returning to the cafeteria before he's noticed.

As he reaches for the door handle, "Hey, you're the cheesecake guy," Griffith turns around, "From the buffet."

It took everything within him not to gush, "Y-yes, that's me." He fidgets with his own fingers, it's a habit whenever he gets flustered, "My name is Griffith, actually." He walks over to the table and sits on the other side.

"I'm Guts." He replies. Griffith hates how red he's getting, but it makes him cuter at least. His cheeks are starting to match his lips and he couldn't stop smiling. Guts didn't want to admit it, but this boy was oddly adorable. It feels weird calling another guy "cute" and "adorable" but that was truly the only thing that came to mind when he saw him.

"Quick question, what classes do you have next? Maybe we'll be together." Griffith chimed in.

Guts fishes through his pocket to grab his schedule, "Hm, I have marine biology and ceramics."

His heart flutters in his chest, the most pleasant feeling he's felt in a while, "I've got ceramics last period too." Griffith smiles. Finally.

"Really?" Guts raised his brow. He liked how bubbly this kid is. Why is he even calling him a kid when they should be the same age?

"Yeah! You know, I've been looking for you all day." He admits, "I figured I'd get to know you."

Guts smiles back at him, his smile is contagious, "What other classes did you have earlier today?"

"Honors, gym, some boring requisites." Griffith looks at his schedule to confirm, "Yes, three honor classes."

"Damn." Guts remarks.

"What?" Griffith asked, "That seems like it's too much?"

Guts chuckles, "No, it's just, you're really smart, huh?"

Griffith nods and smiles at the compliment, "Yes, I guess so."

"Good, then that means maybe you could help me with math, I'm so bad at it. It's embarrassing, really." Guts sighs.

"Aw, I'd love to help you."

This semester was going by fairly easily enough. Guts felt at ease to have made a friend, but he didn't appreciate what cowards had to say about him behind his back. He got into another fight during lunch. Some shit talking spineless coward thought it was funny to call them a pair of fags. This was the same little bitch who also had a history of tormenting Griffith. Calling him a "femboy" a "tranny" and "shemale" and of course a "faggot". Sounds like this kid is secretly gay for him but just won't admit it so he resorts lower than pig's balls to hide his feelings with insults. Typical. Guts can see right through that mask he wears. Everybody Griffith knew wanted to beat this kid's ass again, no surprise he got jumped on by a bunch of people last year for being a little shit and everyone just watched him get beat up because he deserved it. Nobody said anything and nobody snitched. Everybody likes Griffith and the moment someone bothers him is the moment they get beat up.

Guts never threw a punch that hard in his life. Knocked him down then resisted the urge to stomp him out. He's suspended from school for a week, usually he'd hate this. Being suspended means he has to sit at home with Gambino and his obnoxious ass friends, but since he met Griffith he has a valid reason to not be at home. With his time off, his job gives him more hours at least. He works at a dying mall as a security guard. Not much to do, nobody really shops there anymore, all he does is sit and sleep at the desk. When he gets off work, Guts tells Gambino that he goes to Griffith's house for tutoring and then returns home late at night when he's asleep so he doesn't have to hear his damn mouth.

He wasn't scheduled for work on Fridays so he went to Griffith's house instead. Guts knew he was at work, but he can stay there and wait. It shouldn't be too long until he comes back home, his beautiful mother lets him in. It felt funny calling her beautiful, considering how Griffith took after her. They were exact copies of each other, calling her beautiful is like calling Griffith beautiful too.

Griffith comes home with food from the buffet and some champagne he bribed the gas station cashier for. The first thing Guts does is dig into the slices of his beloved cheesecake, "It tastes even better this time."

"I know, I made it this morning. I left it in the oven slightly longer than normal to give it more firmness, just the way you like it." Griffith unloaded the bag of food and removed his hair net, "Guts, if you don't mind me asking, do you have a functional family?"

Guts swallows his mouthful of food, "I sure don't." He answers bluntly before downing half the bottle of champagne.

"Neither do I." Griffith shrugs as he sits on the floor with Guts, "My mom is," he trails off, "She's… Something. I don't hate her, I just feel like she's holding me back in a way and never wants me to leave, she's trying to keep control over me by preventing me from doing anything."

"What do you mean?" Guts asks.

"Well, she tends to talk me down. I say I want to be famous, and she shoots me down, I told her I wanted to join the rowing team and she talked me out of it. It took me awhile to convince her to let me get a job."

Guts frowns, "You talk to her about it?"

"I have, but she doesn't listen. I'm all she's got and she doesn't want to lose me too. She refuses to tell me about my father, but I predict he left her after he got her pregnant." Griffith explained, "It's sad."

Guts fish through the bag of food, "What do you want to do with your life?"

"Me? I wanna be famous, I wanna be rich. I wanna get out of this hell hole forever." He's looking at the ceiling, as if he's looking at the sky.

"Really? What are your talents?"

"I can act, I was in theatre all my life, until my mom talked me out of it. Better yet, I'm pretty."

Guts nods and shyly smiles, "That you are. You're attractive and smart. The perfect combo. Just think, you could be some kind of world famous mathematician, building rockets and airplanes." Griffith's heart flutters at that and he blushes while doing his signature flustered gesture when he'd get nervous: looking down and fidgeting.

"That I could." He agrees.

"Hell," Guts continues with a mouthful of mashed potatoes, "You could model too. You're gorgeous, all you have to do is gain traction with Instagram and boom you're famous. Don't even have to lift a finger." He's heavily considered modeling. His Instagram only has 442 followers so far. He really could make it big through the internet just like everyone else has.

"Thank you, but my mother doesn't think so. She always claims I'll burn out and there will always be someone smarter and more attractive than me." Griffith sighs.

“On the subject of parents, I don’t really know either of my parents either. I was told my mother died when she had me and was never informed of my father. Gambino is only stuck with me because his wife raised me but she died. I am an orphan.” Griffith quietly listens and rubs his back for comfort, "Don't let her get to you. There's always someone like that in our lives. We don't need them."

He sighs and nods, grabbing the container of his favorite soup, broccoli and cheese, "So, you got suspended again, who did you embarrass this time?"

"That fucker, he kept calling you gay and shit, tried to call me a fag. I ko'd him right where he stood." Guts answers, "He deserves to be expelled."

Griffith smiles and playfully bats his eyes, "Aw, stop it, you don't have to knock people out for me."

"I must, if I don't, they'll just keep doing it. Listen, we teenagers are assholes. If we sense one sign of weakness or someone who never stands up for themselves, we go for the kill." Guts said, it was true. Teens and kids in general can say some awful, shitty stuff to each other, "You can't let these people know you're a doormat, they'll just keep coming at you, bullies must be taught a lesson and must have an example made out of them. Bet that fucker won't call you that shit again. And yes, I'll gladly do it again if I have to. Don't give a fuck if they expel me, I've been expelled before. Nothing new."

Griffith perks up, "Wait, really? You've been expelled before? I take it your other school kicked you out then, here I am thinking you were just new to town."

"I've lived here all my life," He corrects "But yeah, been kicked out of my other school from fighting. These people are ruthless. They hit you first so you either hit back harder or get run over. The world doesn't cater to weaklings, weaklings get left behind." Guts was right to an extent.

It really made Griffith wonder if Guts has had this brutal mindset all his life, "What were these people doing to you to make you think and act like this?"

Guts hesitates answering, but he sighs, "Callin me dumb because I'm not too good at math. I'm fine at any other subject, but math is my biggest weak spot. The school itself wasn't helping, they tried to tell me to speak up so I'd tell my ugly ass teacher who's older than dirt what was happening and she didn't do shit. Oh, but as soon as I snap and swing on somebody, I get suspended and painted up as the bad guy." He was visibly upset with his ramblings, based on his balled up fist.

"Aw, Guts-"

Guts cuts him off, "It's okay, don't feel bad for me. I beat all of their asses the day before I was expelled, so fuck em all. And fuck that school and fuck that bitch teacher, she called me dumb too."

"Really? Did they-" Griffith stutters, "Did you tell the board or the principal what she called you? A teacher calling a student dumb can get them fired and they'll probably never be able to teach again." He quickly grew upset just from hearing his story. Maybe that's why Guts kept to himself so much.

Guts sighs, "I let it go, I don't care about them. I let all of my frustration out on their face before I got kicked out anyways."

"Guts, seriously, that awful teacher has left a long term mark on you that has you self-doubting all these years later." Griffith explained, "You ought to go tell the board what she said to you. Can't let these fuckers get away with this, because they're going to do it to someone else."

"Let it go, they won't believe me because too much time has passed and there is no proof." Guts answers. "Maybe I do have something wrong up there, I was dropped on my head after being born, I don't see how I survived the fall."

Griffith starts to throw away empty containers of food and turns back towards his friend, "Guts, don't say that. You're not dumb, you're not slow. Nothing is wrong with you." Guts tensed up when he felt the other's touch on his shoulder, "It'll get better, I'll help you with this. Look, you told me your math grade improved since I started tutoring you."

Despite this, Guts still felt down, "I don't really know how I got this far, nobody was really there for me." He noticed Guts' eyes water despite him trying to hide it, "Like if I were to pack up and leave, nobody would care. I won't be missed."

"Stop saying that, that's not true, okay? I care, and I'll always care. That's what friends do." Griffith wraps his arms around him, maybe bringing alcohol into the mix was a shitty idea, they were supposed to eat, hang out, and have fun through the weekend, not crying about their shitty lives, "If you're gonna pack up and run away, I'm coming with you." He adds, "What are your interests or what are you good at?"

Guts raised his head, "Fitness I suppose, that's something I'm interested in." No surprise here at all, Guts was massive, "I'm on the rugby team, although the coach might not be happy with me getting suspended."

"C'mon, you said it's easy to get famous! Just start a fitness Instagram or a YouTube channel, you'll gain traction, followers, and soon enough you'll be flooded with sponsors. We can be internet celebs together. We'll run the world, we'll be everywhere." Griffith babbled, "If people can get famous for doing absolutely nothing, then we sure as shit can!"

Guts smirks, "You really are passionate, there's like an eternal fire that burns within you."

Griffith tightens his hug on him, "Don't be so quick to give up, I'm here for you. Don't forget that."

He didn't think it'd get this deep, he should've opted for weed instead of alcohol, maybe they'd be laughing at something stupid by now. Guts didn't appear to be that drunk actually. He can hold his drink well. While caught up in the silence, Guts turns around to face him, "Listen, if anybody else is giving you shit, you call me. And if anybody touches you, I'll tear-"

"Guts." Griffith interrupts, chuckling, "It's fine. It's just words. They aren't worth it."

"But you are though." They make eye contact and Griffith quickly looks away. His face was probably redder than an apple at this point and he felt the signature heat of nervousness all over his body. His gaze fell to Guts' lips then back to his eyes. Should he take the leap and just kiss him already? What if he fucks everything up? Guts is still unaware of his secret crush, he should confess already with a kiss.

Griffith was so beautiful, glowing in the sunset that shines through the window and bathed his soft features in gold. Guts places his hand on his chin then on the back of his head to pull him in. He couldn't believe this was happening and then Guts deepened the kiss. Griffith hardly had any experience with kisses like this so he lets Guts take the lead, his tongue coaxing Griffith to open his mouth and he tastes the Vaseline on his lips.

The hand on the back of his head firmly grabs a fist-full of hair. His small moans are eagerly swallowed by him until he suddenly pulls away. Griffith didn't know what to say or what to think. He was just so hot, nervous, and aroused, "T-that was," He paused to fan himself and at a loss of words, "Wow." Was all he could say.

Guts' alluring smirk made him, admittedly, want more, "Really, that good, huh?" He takes in a sense of pride within himself.

"I- can we do that again?" Griffith leans forward and Guts meets him halfway. 

The kiss was slow and sensual this time and then Griffith breaks it to breathe, "Hm, you're getting better already." 

"I had a good teacher." He winks and kisses him again, he must've accidentally placed his hand on his crotch while trying to lean forward because Guts suddenly recoiled away, "What's wrong? Did I-"

"Y-yeah." He tries to hide the obvious hard-on in his pants with his arm, "I'm sorry, shit, this must be so awkward."

Griffith laughs, "No, it's a natural reaction. Besides, I'm the one who touched you there, I should be the one apologising."

He waves it off, "It's nothing." Guts tries to think about something disgusting to turn him off, yet his boner wasn't going anywhere, "Shit." He mumbles.

"Can't get it to go away?" Griffith asks and Guts nervously nods. He could always just… Jerk him off. It'd be no big deal at all. They must've had the same idea because they lean in to kiss each other again and Griffith grips him through his pants. He felt Guts' body arch into his touch and heard a small moan of pleasure in the back of his throat.

"Should we get on the bed?" Guts asks, "I don't want your knees to start bothering you or something." Griffith smiles and nods and they both stand to lie down on his tiny bed with Griffith pressed against his side.

"Let me know if you want to stop." Stated Griffith and they resume their sloppy kiss. Guts responds by grabbing his hand and bringing it down to his dick. He removes his impressive length from his pants and strokes him.

Guts flinched and broke the kiss, "Your hand is so dry."

"Oh, sorry about that." He brought his hand up to his mouth and licked a long stripe up his palm before continuing to stroke him.

Guts sighs, "That's better." The hand on him quickened its pace and Griffith leaned down to give a curious, slow lick on the tip. It's salty of course but he doesn't mind. He must be doing something right because Guts curses under his breath and resists the urge to push his head down. Griffith gets the hint, takes him deeper, and strokes him faster. Guts soon felt it, the pleasant feeling of heat building up to signal his orgasm. He couldn't even form actual words, just breathy nonsense and sharp gasps for air. The sudden splash of saltiness on the roof of his mouth slightly startled him, but he swallows anyways. There was really no place to spit it out. He doesn't stop sucking and stroking until Guts tells him to, "It's getting too sensitive now."

Griffith pulls away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, "How was that?"

"That was, god damn." Guts' labored breathing slows when he releases a sigh, "Never knew you had it in you."

"Neither did I, that was my first time sucking someone off." Griffith admits.

Guts is eyeing the bulge in his pants when he sits upright, "I take it you want me to return the favor?"

"If you don't mind." Guts' warm hands all over him makes him melt when they travel underneath his shirt to pinch his nipples. Griffith's body shudders as Guts slid his hand into his pants to grip and stroke him. He whimpers, gasps, and swears as he reaches his orgasm. He didn't last long at all. It's kind of embarrassing. Guts pulls his messy hand away and Griffith brings it to his mouth to suck his release from his fingers.

"Shit, you're a little freak, aren't you?" Guts purrs.

"Only for you." He playfully swats at his side. He scoots over to make room on his bed and they lie there in silence. The only noise in the room was the buzz of the ceiling fan. 

Griffith begins to strip and Guts caught a glimpse of his perfect round ass just before he lies back down, "W-wait, you want to go all the way? But we don't have any con-"

"No, I'm just a little hot is all." He interrupts, "I don't even think I'm ready for that quite yet."

"N-neither am I." Guts agrees and pulls Griffith closer. His warm nude body against his would've easily gotten riled up again if he weren't so sensitive. 

They bask in each other's warmth and quickly began to get drowsy, "Hey, Guts." Griffith's soft voice cuts through the silence like a knife.

"Hm?"

"I love you." He admits,"I always have, I've been crushing on you since I saw you at the buffet." Griffith's words came out rather fast, almost too fast to the point of being incomprehensible but he couldn't help it. When he admits his feelings in one go like this, it tends to happen.

Guts took a moment to himself to process everything. Has everything happened this fast already? One moment they were sitting down and eating then the next he's getting his dick sucked, now there's love confessions. "Really? Then I love you too." Griffith smiles to himself, "You- you know I've never, uh, done this right?" Guts sputters, "I mean I've never been with another guy."

"So I'll be your first, then. It's okay, it's just like any normal relationship, nothing's really all that different." Griffith's stomach felt the pleasurable feeling of butterflies as he leaned closer into Guts' warmth. He was right. It'd be just like dating a girl, right? He's never felt this way before, but he's willing to try and see how it goes. Who knows, maybe they'll end up marrying each other and dying within each other's arms when they are old and grey.

Griffith sits up to look at him with that warm smile, "Wanna go see a movie?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been sleeping on this one for a long time, here it is at last.


	3. Skyrim Au? Skyrim Au.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was playing Skyrim the other day, wandering around and went into Ilinalta's Deep (Aka that one dungeon that fell into the lake from that dude messing with Azura's Star) got inspired.
> 
> If you've never played Skyrim, you should probably skip this one, you won't know anything that's going on here. Skyrim and The Elder Scrolls lore in general is a deep, deep rabbit hole. Anyways, enjoy!

Tireless days of traveling across Skyrim from Hjaalmarch finally ends when they've reached their destination in Falkreath Hold. A fort awaits them for now until their scheduled execution date in Helgen nearby. Guts and his men were captured along the eastern border of Hjaalmarch towards The Pale.

Had he not been stripped of all his weapons and hands not been tied, he'd have slaughtered all of these Imperials by now. Such a shame he'd let his guard down enough to be ambushed in the dead of night in Imperial territory. Guts looked on at the soldiers in red in disgust as they led a line of his squad inside the fort. They all get thrown into the depths inside of prison cells, "Fucking Imperials." Guts mumbles, "Cowards. All of you!" He speaks louder this time. The men armored in red only laugh at him as they lock the cell door and walk away up the stairs.

"Guess Sovngarde awaits us." He looks back at all his men, they've all lost hope and have given up. Outnumbered, unarmed, stuffed in prison cells until the day they'll meet the headsmen. A young, naive kid tried to claim Ulfric will come save him. Guts doesn't say anything, only staring through the bars of the cell until a Legate arrives. Dawned in fancy silvery armor and a flowing red cape.

"A Stormblade?" The man questions while looking at Guts' armor then back down at the sheet of paper in his hands, "We'll see to your belongings get sent back to your families. Your names?"

"First name Go Fuck last name Yourself." Guts sneers, spitting on the floor and his men laugh along with him in the background.

"Har har har." The man frowns, "Stormcloaks." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

Guts tuts, "Imperials. How's it feel being the bitch of elves? I'm surprised you can still speak considering how the Thalmor's got their cock shoved down your throat. You should consider getting knee-pads." They all laugh, "Better yet, do they fuck you dry or take the time to lube you up?" 

He can make out the other man's crease in between his brows deepening, "I'll be surprised if that mouth of yours can keep runnin' when the headsman's axe gets accustomed to your neck." The Legate snaps back, "Ugh, what am I doing? I have no time to spare for the likes of you all." He turns around and begins to walk away.

Guts calls out, "Yeah, turn your back and walk away, filthy Thalmor puppet."

"Let's see your false High King come rescue you now. Oh, that's right, he doesn't give two shits about any of you." The other man shrugs.

Guts pulls on the bars of the cell, "Oh like your General is so caring and loving towards you."

"I know he isn't and I'm aware of that, unlike you. Keep telling yourselves the lie that he'll launch an assault here to save you. I don't pity you one bit."

"Why don't you come closer, hm? Repeat what you said within arm's length, I'll snatch your ass in here." He threatens. 

The Legate sighs, rolls his eyes and continues walking up the stairs, "Coward!" One of his men shouts behind him, "Look at him run." Another mocks.

A storm is currently passing over them and the water from the nearby river exceeds the bank, "Legate Griffith!" A private shouts over the rushing water, "The basement of the fort is flooding! There was a fault in the wall and the force of the river has put a hole in it!"

Damn. This fort was built too close to the river's edge. While forts and castles flood all the time, this one was on the verge of collapsing whenever the river flooded. Griffith stares at the river, now white with its rapid flow and battering the bottom of the fort, "Any of our own trapped inside?"

"I- I don't know, I was told to get out of there. I didn't get a chance to look in the basement."

Griffith turns around to face building, "I'll go back in to make sure all of us are out, you should get everyone else and the horses away from here, okay?"

The small boy's protests are drowned out over the storm, as he gets closer to the fort, he notices it started to lean slightly towards the river. He doesn't have much time, but he barges through the doors anyways.

"Everyone calm down!" Guts shouts, his men have started to panic hysterically as they attempt to scream for help. Nobody's coming back down here to save them. Anybody who does is a suicidal fool, "At least the Imperials won't have the pleasure of killing us." The Stormblade speaks, "Face your demise at the hands of nature and not those faithless spineless bastards."

The water was already up to their knees. He feels a hand on his shoulder from one of the newest members to their ranks, an Unblooded young man, blonde hair and patchy facial hair couldn't be any older than twenty states, "See you in Sovngarde." Guts can make out tears in his eyes beyond the moisture on his face from the water.

Before Guts can reply, the sound of splashing cuts him off. It's the Legate stepping down from the stairs and wading through the water, as if searching for something, "Hey, let us out!" The Stormcloaks desperately shout. He ignores them on his way to the next room over. He frees a woman trapped underneath a bed halfway under the water. She leans on him, limping on their way towards the stairs. 

"Came back only to save your own, huh?" Guts calls out, "You really have no humanity."

Griffith turns to face them all within the cell, "You were to be executed by us, of course we don't have any 'humanity' for you." He guides her up the stairs where another soldier helps her outside. Griffith remains at the middle of the stairs, "And if the roles were reversed, would you spare me of such a demise? Be honest."

"Hm, possibly. It's a completely avoidable death." Griffith visibility hesitates but reaches into his satchel and feels around for the key. They were wasting too much time speaking like this, the water was now up to their waists. 

He steps down the stairs, "You tell nobody of this and you all should leave the area immediately. Don't let yourselves be seen." Guts watched him dip his head under the water to unlock the cell. They all swung the cell door open together and swam towards the stairs. At this point, the room was completely flooded up to the ceiling. Guts' heavy armor weighed him down but he managed to make it to the upper level of the fort.

The open door was right in front of him, but he stops in the middle of the main room. Unmoving as the building rumbles, "Stormblade, Let's go!" A woman from his squad pulls on his arm.

He ushers her towards the door, "I'll be right behind you." She quietly nods and sprints through the door to safety. Pieces of the ceiling have started to fall.

"Legate?" Guts looks at the water-logged entrance to the ground floor. It was calm like there was no movement at all. 

He shouldn't do this, he should just run and get out of here before he's seen or smothered by the collapse. Guts removes most of his armor and dives into the water. It doesn't take long for him to find his unconscious body, pinned behind the same cell door he unlocked from the force of the water. He pulls on the door until he's got enough room to pull him through the gap. Almost immediately did they get sucked through the widening hole in the wall and into the river.

Guts struggles to hold his head above the surface while holding onto the other's body. He bumps against a rock, then a tree log. It cuts him wide open at his side and he screams in pain. There's a sharp turn up ahead which, thankfully, he's able to catch himself on. He can feel his feet touch the ground at last and he drags his body onto land.

He's bleeding heavily on his left side but he ignores the pain to strip the Legate of his chest plate and then press firmly on his chest. Guts pumps until a rib cracked from the force, then he leans down to blow air down his throat. There was no response so he tried again.

The Legate sharply inhales air and immediately spits up water. Guts rolls him onto his side, watching him dry heave and gag. By then, his helmet has fallen off somewhere in the rapids and his long, white hair has been stained by the mud beneath them. Almost looks black.

He holds his chest in pain, "Sorry about that. I think I broke a rib."

"Why would you do that?"

"To save you! You weren't breathing just then, I had to do chest compressions on you."

The other raises his hand to cast a healing spell on himself. He glows bright yellow for a moment, "No, I mean why would you save me?"

"You scratched my back and now I've just scratched yours."

"But-"

Guts tries to wipe the mud off himself as he stands up, "Don't question it."

He began to walk away, "Hey, wait. You're hurt." Guts presses his hand to his bloody side, "Let me heal you."

"Wait a min-" He gets cut off when a yellowish glow surrounds him. The pain and the wound were both gone instantly. It was the first time someone casted a spell on him since he doesn't know a single spell himself.

"All better? I should probably tell you my name, I'm Griffith."

"I'm Guts." He answers. The storm wasn't showing any signs of letting up and Guts began to shiver.

Griffith looks around for his chest plate and straps it back onto himself, "Come on. We should get out of the rain and rest up a little."

By the time they arrived at Falkreath, it was dark and everyone in the town had retired for the night. There were Imperial soldiers everywhere since this Hold was under their control, it made Guts nervous being around them unarmed. An Imperial and a Stormcloak walking together would've raised an alarm had Guts not been stripped down to his undergarments. It's just as bizarre as seeing an Argonian and Dunmer walk alongside each other. Those two races don't get along well. To them, they looked like a pair of friends just walking through town. Griffith buys them a room in the tavern for the night.

"Where'd you get the coin from? Didn't you lose that satchel of yours?" He responds only by smirking at him, "Hm, a pickpocket, huh? Impressive."

Griffith sits on the edge of the only bed in the room, "I was once a thief when I was younger. Lived in poverty alongside the dark elves in Windhelm. I learned by watching them."

"You're a Nord from Windhelm, yet you joined the Imperials?"

"I have my reasons."

Odd. It doesn't matter now. Guts yawns and settles in the chair on the other side of the room, "You can have the bed."

"Really? Come on, you deserve a good night's rest too." 

"I'm fine in this chair. Not the first time I've slept in one." 

"I think we can both fit in it."

Guts chuckles, "I'm not sharing a bed with you. I'm sticky, wet, and gross."

"So am I." Griffith replies and Guts sigh. This man really is stubborn.

The bed suddenly felt bigger than it did last night and Guts reached his arm out to be sure. He wakes up when his hand bumps against the wall. Griffith was gone by then. Guts sits up to rub his eyes. It was quite the experience. One moment he was to be executed by the Imperials then the next he's sharing a bed with one. He didn't know what to think of it, but it was forbidden and it had to come to an end. If they were to be high-ranking members of opposite factions during this civil war, it was for the best. While Guts steps outside to suit up again and begin his long journey back to Windhelm, he ponders when will be the next time they'll meet. He hopes it won't be on the battlefield, that's for sure.

He finally arrives in Solitude after a week of slow travel by horse. Everyone was happy to see him, thought he was dead, there was even a death certificate of him. Griffith was, admittedly, happy to see them as well. Castle Dour was a hectic mess because everyone was scrambling on, trying to put pieces together. Helgen was set ablaze by a dragon of legend which allowed for Ulfric Stormcloak, the leader of the rebellion, to escape his execution. So many people died. Imperials, Stormcloak prisoners, Thalmor, and residents of the town. He was just in Falkreath Hold a week ago, and to think the neighboring settlement was seemingly wiped off the map in an instant made him shudder. Had that incident not happened at that fort, he would've been there too and probably gotten incinerated by the drake's fiery breath. A dragon, thought to be extinct, has risen again.

It made him think about Guts and their time together in Falkreath's capital. He wonders what he could be up to now or if news of the dragon attack has reached him yet. What does he think of dragons and their return? For sure it'll signal another Dragon War. Who will be the hero to go against them this time? It could just be the end of the world if nobody can slay them where they stand. Griffith kind of regrets leaving Guts without telling him in the early morning hours, but he didn't want to be bothered with the pains of saying goodbye forever. 

He was allowed a week of time off to gather himself. Meanwhile, talks of this "Dragonborn" character spread like wildfire throughout Skyrim. People claimed he was able to consume the soul of a downed dragon just outside of Whiterun. This meant he was virtually the only one who could kill a dragon, maybe even the big black one that started it all with its attack on Helgen. Of course this started mass hysteria. A dragon coming that close to Whiterun. What's stopping another one from outright attacking Solitude right now?

When he's approved to return to his duties, he is immediately dispatched to Whiterun at the request of the Jarl. The Stormcloaks were coming to take the city and they were to defend alongside Whiterun guards until they fell. As he stood on an archer's tower at the main entrance to the city, he allowed his mind to wander back to Guts. Maybe he'll be here when they lay siege. Should the Imperials find victory, Griffith can't find it within himself to cut him down, if he's still even alive that is. What if he had been slain during one of the many skirmishes of the war. Left to rot out in the wilds and be forgotten.

Nothing happens the first few days, that is, until they noticed trebuchets being set up out in the distance one early morning of Middas. It was time. He dawns his Imperial Knight armor and takes the lead with other Legates and General Tullius outside the city walls.

Swords and shields clash as do the destruction spells of battle mages in the backlines. There was no organization, no battle formation, just unordered chaos. Many structures within the city came crashing down from the trebuchets and there were many heavy casualties on both sides. No matter what, they must hold at the choke. There was only one way in and one way out and not a single Stormcloak was to be able to breach the backlines and bring down the drawbridge. Fires were being set from spells and arrows tipped with flammable oil. There were flaming familiars being conjured and exploding, Storm Atronach, Fire Atronachs, ice spikes spearing people in half and magical spells going off in all directions.

Griffith had downed several Stormcloaks until he heard something that sounded as loud as thunder. It made his ears ring from the intensity. What appeared to be a shockwave tore through the men in red, launching them through the air. It was probably Ulfric's shouts tearing through their numbers like this.

He stumbles over a dead body wearing the same armor as Guts. Griffith freezes for a moment and knocks the helmet off, turns out to be a woman in the rank similar to his. He releases a sigh of relief. There it was again, that loud shockwave. It snaps him out of it just in time for him to take a warhammer swing to his back. Griffith falls to the ground, but is saved by one of his men wielding a kite shield parry the attack, "Watch yourself!" The other man scolds.

It all became so overwhelming. So loud. He didn't even realize he had been bleeding and someone casted a healing spell on him. Griffith hadn't even noticed an archer taking aim at his still form. He gets an arrow through the weakest point in his armor, in his knee. His right knee lit up in pain. A potential career-ending injury.

Another soldier drags him out of the middle and towards the backline. He watches him get shot down with an arrow in the nape of his neck, dropping Griffith to the ground. His desperate casting of a weak healing spell doesn't work. The boy was gone. Their archers and mages began to fall right before him, shot with arrows, set ablaze, or frozen in place by spells. He knows they have lost. Whiterun will be overrun by the Stormcloaks and they'll charge into Dragonsreach to confront the Jarl. A figure stands over him, blocking out the sun with his shadow.

Griffith's gaze travels from his bear clawed boots of his armor up to his face, "Do it then, kill me." He didn't know who it was. All he knew was that when he brings that massive sword down, he will wake up in Sovngarde.

"No." The figure in Stormlord armor answers. He sheathed his greatsword. Griffith knew that voice.

"Guts?"

He kneels in front of him, "Stay down. Don't move." Griffith did as told and lied face down on the ground. Playing dead was probably the only thing he could do. He could no longer move with his injury, and if he did, he wouldn't get very far. Several people have stepped on him on their way to the gates once the bridge had been let down and it took everything within him to not shout. It was all over. The Imperials lie defeated in a bloody heap while the city they were supposed to defend floods with men and women in blue.

Guts returns to pick him up and hold him over his shoulder when the coast was clear. Anybody wearing red were mercilessly cut down while they charged into the city, giving him a window of opportunity to get Griffith out of here. He pretended like he was disposing of a dead body. 

He's placed on a horse hidden in the trees on the side of the road, "Why didn't you kill me?"

"Why should I?"

"Because I'm an Imperial and you're a Stormcloak?"

Guts laughs, "I have my reasons. Now go, get out of here. You should go into hiding, let them think you're dead." 

Griffith didn't know what to say, but Guts swats the horse before he could. It gallops away from the flaming city. He didn't know where to go or what to do. Which cities were safe and which weren't? He'd probably have to live off the grid forever until he passes away where nobody could find his remains. If he goes back to Solitude, he'll more than likely be jailed. They'll suspect him of running away like a coward to save his own ass while everyone else dies bravely.

He went awol in the middle of a losing battle. The Stormcloaks have since then gained control of half of Skyrim. It won't be long until they attack their base of operations, Solitude. He should've died during the battle of Whiterun, but since he didn't, he should die during the defense of Solitude just like everyone else will soon. He shuns himself for his cowardly behavior and will probably carry this guilt for the rest of his life. Griffith knows the Stormcloaks have won this war and the hysteria isn't helping the cause. More dragon sightings have been reported everywhere and a sudden spike of growing vampire attacks as well. Skyrim isn't safe anymore. It's time he left and forge a new life elsewhere within Tamriel. There's nothing left for him here. All of his friends are probably dead by now so nobody would miss him when he's gone.

On the westernmost border of Skyrim, he heard his name being called out in the distance. He ignores it at first, thinking it's his imagination. Then he hears it again. He looks over his shoulder, spotting someone in all black running towards him on horseback. Griffith didn't know who it could be. A span of time has passed since his defeat. He can't remember when was the last time he heard someone call his name.

"Remember me?" He slows his horse down to match speeds.

Griffith's eyes widened in realization, "Guts?" He smiles and nods, pulling off the hood of his cloak, "What are you doing way out here? Don't you have a war to win?"

"The war is already won. They don't need me anymore, besides, they have a much stronger and better Stormblade than me."

"Who?" Griffith questions, "I didn't really get to see your prowess, but to be a high rank you've got to be an excellent swordsman. So who's possibly better than you?"

Guts takes a sip of water from his waterskin, "I don't know him or his name, I didn't talk to him at all, but he was quite the anomaly. You've probably seen him before, he was there during Whiterun." He explains, "I've seen him blow fire and ice out of his mouth once. Then he shouts and sends people flying." Oh, it all made so much sense now.

"So that's what that was. I thought it was Ulfric doing that."

Guts shrugs, "Well, they now have another person who knows the Way of the Voice. I'm pretty sure that's the dragonborn everyone keeps talking about. Don't know why he's bothering to fight a civil war when he should be killing the bigger threat. They don't need me. They'll win with or without me."

Griffith studies Guts' horse, looking like it had been packed with several essentials for long distance travel much like his own, "Where are you going?"

"Where am I going?" He repeats, "Wherever you're going."

"You're coming with me?" Griffith states in disbelief, "First of all, how did you find me out here?"

"You didn't see me but I had been following you this whole time."

"Stalker." He jokes. Bird chirping fills the gap of silence between them, "So you're really coming with me? I'm leaving Skyrim, you know that, right?"

"Yes, I know." He nods in response, "Based on your direction, you're headed to Hammerfell, huh?" Griffith hums. He takes a moment to take in the environment he'd been so accustomed to seeing since he was a child. It'll all be gone. Mountains, snow, cold tundras, bulky houses and horses fit for harsh weather, and Nords everywhere. It'll all be gone soon, replaced with flat terrains, hot weather, and sand from its desert climate. No longer will he be greeted by Nords. Redguards and their dark skin and exquisite architecture will become a common sighting to him, "Well then, I hope there's such a spell that protects you from the sun. You're going to need it."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guts would never tell a single soul that he's lonely. Lonely enough to do something stupid that he won't regret.

Guts doesn't know how he ended up here, perhaps it's his bad communication skills, but he hates to admit that he's lonely. He's got himself a large bed with no one to share it with and a great apartment… All for himself. Those bullshit dating sites were a waste of time, so were the speed dating sessions his friends talked him into. Meeting someone by chance has never happened to him and probably never will. His life certainly isn't like some Pixar movie where he'd bump into "the one" while he's out and about. Maybe he's too intimidating and most people find him too difficult to approach. Any "friends with benefits" type relationships didn't quite end well. Anybody who he's ever been intimate with slowly drifts away. His looks weren't too big of an issue, he would consider himself attractive. He's got the size but maybe he's just bad at sex? Is it his overall character that drives people away?

Guts stares himself down in the mirror after a long, hot shower pondering on whether or not he should change his appearance. Maybe it's time for a new haircut or a new choice of fashion.

He hasn't got the slightest clue on what legitimate love feels like or what it's like to slowly fall for someone. Maybe he should stop worrying so much about sex. No amount of fucking will make him feel wanted, he needs someone he can sit down with, be himself, be able to talk about anything and get comfortable around them. There is, however, one more method he's never tried. One of those "cuddle buddy" type things. Granted, it isn't for dating but maybe it'll help with this god-awful empty feeling within his chest at least for a little while. He pulls up the site on his phone. God dammit, is he really this pathetic and desperate for affection that he'd go this far as to pay someone for their affection? Apparently.

He completes the sign-up process and sets up his profile. His profile picture is one of his best headshots and he fills out a short bio about himself. The site asks for preference, he selects "Female" with shaking fingers and then "Looking to be cuddled" Fuck this. Guts tosses his phone on the bed and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Nope, not doing it. No way in hell." He finds himself mumbling. He should just delete his profile and go to sleep. This is ridiculous-

The phone vibrates with a notification, someone has sent him a direct message already. Guts has to pull himself together to unlock the screen again. A simple "Hello." From someone named White_Hawk. Based on her profile picture, he'd say she's attractive. Her blue eyes contrast well with her white hair. Guts almost doesn't want to say anything back, but he does so anyways.

Their chat was short, simple and friendly. Neither gave up too much info about themselves and that's the way he'd prefer it for now. Their scheduled meet-up lingered in the back of his mind while he's at work all morning. Guts returns home to shower and fix up his apartment, should he cook something? No, this isn't a date. It's just a "cuddle session" between two strangers from the internet. Shit, it really does sound even weirder when he thinks about it. He should cancel. This is going too far, he didn't think someone would reach out to him like that, nobody ever does. There's a knock at his door and he damn near doesn't want to open it, but he should. It'd be so fucked up to invite someone over then ghost them. His hand grips the doorknob so tight it hurts when he turns it. No going back now.

Guts almost forgets to greet himself, "Hi, how are you? Please, come in." He holds open the door and steps aside to let her in.

She's even prettier in person, and thankfully, she really is who she says she is. That is, until "she" speaks, "I'm well and you?" Shit! It's a guy?! Guts locks up while the door swings itself shut. How could he have been so foolish and forget to view his profile after he messaged him, he doesn't know how he managed to do such a stupid thing, "Is something wrong?"

"No, everything's fine." Guts nervously smiles, "Make yourself at home, I have to go to the bathroom." The other man watches in confusion as Guts speeds away down the hall. He closes himself in the bathroom and quickly returns to the website, "What the fuck? I could've sworn I selected women as my preference." He checks under the settings tab. Oh. His shaky fingers probably accidentally selected male instead, and he was too dumb to double check. He opens the other's profile. It definitely says "Male". Guts sighs and accepts that he's got nobody but himself to be mad at.

He hesitantly exits the bathroom and returns to the living room, "Everything okay?" He asks.

Guts nods, "Yes, I'm okay. I guess I just drank too much tea."

"Well then, I should probably tell you my real name. I'm Griffith." He holds out his hand and Guts shakes it.

"I'm- I'm Guts." He found himself growing flustered by him. For one, he called another man pretty and two, despite learning that he's a man, Guts is still smitten by him. He has never once looked at another man this way and yet here he is.

Griffith seats himself on the couch, "Shall we begin?" Guts said nothing as he sat down next to him. He pulls his wavy hair behind his back, "How would you like to do this? I'm fine with doing either."

"Uh," Guts, dumbfounded, stutters, "You can just lean on me for now I guess." The other man raises his brows, almost surprised at his response but nods and rests his head on his shoulder. Guts places his arm around him. This is easy enough. Men do this all the time, right?

Griffith asks, "Would you like to talk or no?"

"No." Guts replies. He's still got a lot on his mind right now and talking wouldn't help. He really shouldn't be in this position, but alas, it's his own fault. He should've double checked his profile. Guts released a shaky sigh. Relax. It's nothing serious, besides, this will only last an hour. It's been such a long time since he's ever held someone else like this. He isn't even quite sure if he likes it anymore. Guts shuts his eyes. This is nice. It's helping surprisingly enough and he feels relief. His arm ends up pulling Griffith in closer and he feels his arm secure itself around his waist. It makes him flinch.

Griffith pulls his arm away, "What's wrong, do you not like that?"

"Nothing's wrong," Guts answers, "It was just a surprise. Do it again." Griffith places his arm around him once more.

The sound of Griffith's phone vibrating chimes in. Guts had nearly fallen asleep. Has it been an hour already? Damn, he was just starting to get comfortable within his warmth, "That's my cue. Time's up." He turns off the alarm and stands up to stretch, "This was nice, don't you think?"

"Yeah." He replies. Truth be told, he didn't want this to end. Guts leads him to the door and waves goodbye. Just before Griffith could round the corner towards the elevators at the end of the corridor, "Wait!" Guts calls out. He stops to turn around, "Do you think we could do this again?"

Griffith smiles at him, "Of course."

Their sessions became more frequent and longer. They speak more too, mostly just Guts rambling about himself and how he's glad to have met him. Griffith allows himself to be the little spoon. It was the first time they've done this position and Guts quickly began to regret it. He found himself warming up in a certain area. He shouldn't even be getting hard when he hasn't even been touched there. There was space between them. Guts tries to ignore it, luckily, there was enough room on the couch for him to back up some more.

"You okay?" Griffith chimes in.

"Y-yeah."

He hears Griffith chuckle, "You have a boner, don't you?"

"No!" Guts loudly denies. He turns around to look at him over his shoulder with his brow raised, "Okay. I do. You caught me." Griffith sits upright. Guts is prepared to be yelled at, or even, slapped, "Look, I know it's weird. I know you're probably grossed out-"

Griffith shuts him up, "You really have no idea what the true purpose of that site is, huh?"

"What?"

"I'll admit, I was surprised at how long you've gone before realizing." Griffith states. Guts only stares at him even more visibly confused, "It's all a disguise, Guts. That site isn't really for 'cuddling' do you wonder why it requires you to pay me? Wonder how I got that nice car outside?" Guts, once again, said nothing, "It's an underground escort site."

The news came as a shocker to him. It made his chest hurt strangely enough. It all made sense and he was an idiot to not see it. Everything adds up. The "cuddler or looking to be cuddled" status. How the amount of money per hour differs from person to person. The fact that the majority of the "Looking to be cuddled" crowd were old men, "So this whole time,"

"We were supposed to fuck." Griffith laughs, "I didn't say anything at first because it was less work for me and you seemed to be content with being platonic." Guts was at loss of words, "Now I understand you might be disappointed. You paid to be 'cuddled' and instead you got a whore."

Guts sits up, "No. Don't call yourself that. Look, we don't have to do any of that stuff if you don't want to."

Griffith smiles, "You've still got me all alone for two more hours and you still don't want to fuck me?"

"N-no. Don't take it the wrong way."

"That's actually kind of sweet." He blushes, "Most men would've had their way with me already."

Guts grabs his hand, "Well, I'm not like other guys, huh?"

Griffith suddenly frowns and Guts felt like his heart sank, "If you're doing this to make me feel better in hopes of slowly easing your way to me, it won't work and it isn't very nice either."

"No, hey! It isn't like that," Guts reassures, "Honest. I feel different around you. It's something I've never felt before."

"Don't tell me, you're falling in love with me, a prostitute? You have no idea how many men have told me that and yet won't look at me the same morning after."

Guts hugs him, "I'm sorry if it came off that way, but I mean it. I really mean it."

Griffith sighs. The sincerity in his voice and in his eyes struck a chord in him, "O-okay." He spoke, "I'll give you a chance, though I have my doubts."

Guts smiles at him, "Listen, I don't know what your situation is or how you ended up on that site. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," He explains, "But I think I can get you another safer job, you don't have to do this dangerous shit anymore with these gross old men. Do you trust me?"

"I-" Griffith begins but cuts himself off. Guts tightens his grip on his hand, "O-okay. I trust you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one might be a cut n paste for some of you and that's because it is. It was a standalone fic that was supposed to continue but I changed my mind and deleted the original work to put here because that's where it belongs. 
> 
> I honestly don't have any motivation to continue with this one because every attempt I made sucked and I ended up hating. I honestly don't know where to expand on, plus, it's short compared to my other works, I literally wrote it in the waiting room of the dentist.
> 
> Sorry about making that lame promise that this fic would continue, but it just feels a little better to me to leave it as it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: I added more to the ending, someone was itchin' for more with this specific chapter and so, why not? I didn't wanna add another chapter to continue where this one left off because it's really, really short and didn't even really feel worthy of that, so I just extended the original chapter. To be fair, the old ending was really.. Open, not that there's anything wrong with open endings.

Guts had been curious about gay sex for the longest. Enough so to check out the designated "Gay" half of Pornhub. His friend, Griffith, had experience with other men. It makes Guts wonder if he's ever been intimate with another man, if so, who? He was attractive, yes, surely his lover must be as wickedly gorgeous as him.

He scrolls down the Trending tab. These videos were most viewed or highly rated. It didn't spark any arousal in him. It's just curiosity. It's normal. So what? Guts' mind makes up excuses. He's not into other men like that. He, for one, thinks anal sex is painful yet he cant stop watching it. It's a secret he'll take down to his grave. He hasn't gotten turned on from watching these videos yet, so he continuously clicks around or pauses them mid-way to find another to watch.

The tab goes on for forever. It's all vanilla, standard stuff that doesn't spark any interest. Some bdsm and others in foreign languages. Out of the many explicit thumbnails, one manages to immediately grab his attention. It's Griffith. His friend. There, front and center on a trending Porn Hub video. It flashes quick snip-bits of the video in the thumbnail as a preview, "Adorable sub likes it rough" was the video's title. Guts almost couldn't believe his eyes. Well, that answers his question about whether or not Griffith has ever had sex another man. Should he watch it? He doesn't see why not. It's normal for someone to watch a porno of their own friend, right? No. He shouldn't but he can't help it. His trembling hand drags the mouse across the mouse pad and clicks on the video.

Unsurprisingly, this isn't the only video he's uploaded on this profile. There's plenty more being recommended below. It's an amateur type video. Filmed with a cell phone perhaps. It's straight to the point. No foreplay, no introductions, just a massive man slowly entering the pale body beneath him. He watches on as Griffith's body takes his huge cock with no resistance. Guts ponders how long did prepping him take to be able to take such a size.

They were on his bed and Griffith was on his hands and knees. The camera angle displays a perfect view of his face. He bites his lip, whimpers and moans for more. The man behind him obliges, hammering into his smaller body faster. Guts sat there in disbelief. Wait a minute… Is that Zodd? His face was out of view but there is no mistaking his build. The man was massive and ripped. He had the ideal body most people obsess over, tall, huge arms, wide shoulders, overall built like a powerlifter. Unbelievable. Guts had only met him a few times through Griffith. He seemed normal enough. It makes sense now. The two were always close to each other, but he'd have never thought this close. It almost makes Guts upset that Griffith neglected to tell him about their relationship. He went this long thinking he was single when he wasn't.

He can hear the hard slaps of flesh against flesh over Griffith's cries of pleasure. Zodd is so harsh with him, it almost looks like it's hurting him with how he pulls his hair and slams into him deep until his eyes water. He leans over Griffith back, bringing his face into view which confirms Guts' suspicions, "You okay?" He whispered and Griffith nodded.

His own cock throbs with interest and Guts quickly scrolls down. The comments load, everyone was fawning over Griffith's voice, the faces he made, Zodd's massive build, and of course a few bots here and there. He clicks on another video of theirs. "POV slutty bottom rides you" The title makes Guts frown. Would Griffith really call himself that? Shit, maybe.

Once again, Zodd was mostly out of view, as he must be the one holding the phone. The main focus here was Griffith. It starts with him on his knees with a huge dick deep in his throat. It's as long as a forearm yet Griffith is able to down him halfway without gagging on it. He sucked on the tip and fondled his balls within his palm. Guts never thought Griffith could take something like that down his throat so easily. It makes him wonder if he'll do the same to him. Put those plush pink lips around his dick and swallow his load. The video cuts to his gaze staring lovingly into the camera as he sucks on Zodd's thumb, slowly easing his body down his long length.

His cock is as hard as it's going to get and the bothersome throbbing could no longer be ignored. Guts hesitantly frees himself from his pants and strokes himself. He's completely alone. Nobody else is in this room, or even, this apartment with him. It's okay he keeps telling himself. He's free to touch himself in the privacy of his bedroom whenever the hell he wants.

Griffith's lovely voice clouds his mind with "Ahs" and "Ohs" the pleasured look on his face as he arches his back. His body was perfect too. Lithe, unmarked, and smooth. Guts almost wants to touch him, feel his warm skin under his palms and watch his pale cheeks flush red. No. What is he thinking? That's his own friend, yet here he is jerking off to one of many of his pornos. Guts stares at his chest. Perky pink nipples just begging to be pinched. He doesn't even care that he lacks breasts, he still wants to lick and bite them. He should stop this, but his hand scrolls the mouse wheel down and left clicks subconsciously.

He doesn't even bother to read the title. He doesn't care. The thumbnail is what drew him to it. Thick stripes of cum all over Griffith's back. The camera must be from a laptop, maybe they did live streams too because Zodd tells him to wave at "Them" Looks like they were in an office. It's definitely Griffith's place because Guts remembers seeing that room when he'd come over. The same chair, desk, and bookshelf in the background. To think Griffith has been fucked in that same chair blows him away.

He seats himself on Zodd's cock, facing the camera. Guts gets a view of his bouncing length while he rides and grinds. His perfect body bows and bends effortlessly within Zodd's huge arms that maneuver him as he sees fit. He holds his legs open then holds him within his arms to raise and drop him on his cock. His hand speeds up, listening to the dirty talk. He can barely hear his hushed tone being whispered into Zodd's ear over the squeaking of the chair.

"Make me your bitch" and "Fill me up" Guts is almost close as he shuts his eyes to listen. He can hear Zodd respond with something that he doesn't care to make out. They change positions. Griffith turns his back to camera this time.

It's almost the end of the video. Guts doesn't normally watch the same gay porno video for this long, but he's ready to spill and this angle showed off everything. It shows Zodd's length, thrusting in and out of Griffith's perfect ass which bounces within his hands. He must be close as well, based on his uneven thrusts. The chair sounds like it's going to give out any second now. His dark cock is soon coated in a fine layer of white which also trickled down his heavy balls.

He pulls out to finish the remainder of his orgasm all over Griffith's back, who pulls his long hair out of the way and drapes it over his shoulder. Guts spilled within the palm of his hand. It's an intense orgasm. Caused every single muscle within him to tense up. He curses under his breath and cleans himself up with a tissue. What is he doing? If Griffith found out about this, he’d be shocked, disgusted even.

Despite going soft, Guts finds himself clicking on yet another video of theirs. This time the camera is positioned underneath a glass table and Griffith's being roughly fucked on top of it. Almost looks like he's in pain, but based on the sounds he makes, he loves it. Zodd lifts up one of his legs and reaches down to stroke his neglected cock for a moment. It's a short video and it ends with Griffith crying out as he shudders and reaches his climax with nothing but the friction of the table beneath him.

Had Guts not finished earlier, he would've been hard from the sight. Griffith's body pressed against the glass and his cock sputtering out semen, making an absolute mess of himself. He leans back in his chair with a disappointed sigh escaping his lips. He's a sicko. A weirdo. He slams his laptop shut so hard, he thought he broke it.

It's really hard to look at Griffith the same way. Every time Guts sees him, all he thinks about is him taking a big fat cock in him. Every time he speaks, all he can hear are his high-pitched moans. At this point, Guts can only view him as something to jerk off to.

Even now, watching him lounge on the floor to pet his cat, Guts can see a lone hickey on his waist when his shirt rises up. He awkwardly shifts on the couch, he should've never came over today, "What is with you? Gotta be somewhere or something?"

"Hm?"

Griffith rolls over to look at him, "You're just acting a little off is all." Guts tries to make up an excuse but he can't under all this pressure. Shit, what if he somehow knows? "Ah, never mind."

Guts released a nervous sigh and looked back up at the tv screen. This same couch made a cameo in one of his pornos. He handcuffed his wrists and let Zodd absolutely dominate him. That was the most recent video and it must be how he got that bruise on his waist. It was so quiet between them, save for the obnoxiously loud commercials on the screen and Griffith's cooing to his cat.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a corkboard with many pictures of himself and friends littered all over it. One of which was him and Zodd. Oh, what is with those two? Is there something he should know? Guts finds himself frowning, ugh, what is this, jealousy? He hates this feeling, "Is Zodd your boyfriend?" He instantly regrets asking that and wants to kick himself for saying such a thing. If Griffith declined to tell him about their relationship, he must not want anybody to know about it.

Griffith chuckles and bluntly answers, "No." Guts took a moment to process that simple reply, "We're just friends. There's nothing more beyond that, well, we do have sex from time to time." Guts has to pretend to be shocked at the news he already knew, "Why do you ask?"

"No reason. It's just, I thought something was there because you guys are so close."

"He's a nice guy, but we don't have feelings for each other and probably never will." He adds.

A feeling of what he assumes is relief washes over him. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s glad they aren’t a thing, "Well. That explains a lot."

Griffith sits up and smirks at him, "You gettin' jelly or something?"

"N-no! I was just curious."

"About what? Is that why you're acting weird all of a sudden?"

Guts fumbles with his words and sighs to correct himself, "Griffith, are you- do you two make movies?"

"Mhm, all the time." He states, "Why, did you see them?"

"I-" Griffith hits him that icy stare that always makes him feel small. He couldn't lie to him any longer, "Yes."

To his surprise, Griffith is almost happy to learn of this admission, "Really? What do you think of it? I've been considering getting an actual camera for that."

"They were great-" Guts cuts himself off.

"Wow. Didn't think you were into that sort of thing. Here I am thinking you're straight." Griffith picks up the cat and kisses the top of her head.

"Wha- hey! I never said that they turned me on."

"Then why were you watching them in the first place?" Griffith questions.

Guts, now flustered, explains, "Be- because it just popped up randomly on the front page when I clicked on the damn site!"

"Hm, it shouldn't "pop up randomly" unless you're on the gay side of Porn Hub." He smiles and laughs, "Which only happens if you knowingly click on that category. You were into it, weren't you, Guts?" Pressed Griffith.

He doesn't know what to say, he's just silenced instantly. It feels like he's being outed on a huge stage in front of a huge audience, "Okay, you caught me." He sighs.

Griffith shrugs, "It's okay. Videos like those exist to turn people on." Guts said nothing in response, "Don't be ashamed, I put those up on the web, knowing anybody can view them whenever they want. I can't fault you for that."

"Did it- does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt? Oh, you mean taking it up the ass?" Guts nods, "Yes, but only if you are inexperienced or didn't use enough lubricant." It blows his mind how Griffith can be so nonchalant about this, so open and carefree. In a way, Guts admires his open personality, "Now, Zodd is another story. I had to work my way up using toys. Think of it as ear gauges. You don't immediately go for the largest size, do you? You have to start with the smallest first."

"Toys." Guts repeats. He knows what kind of toys he's referring to, "So you're a little freak, aren't you?"

Griffith laughs, "Only in bed." He places the cat back on the floor who went to Guts to purr and rub herself against his leg. Guts’ head fills up with erotic thoughts. He kind of wants to experience gay sex with Griffith. He seems to be knowledgeable about this sort of thing. If he could just work up the nerve to ask. Maybe he'll say yes? Guts wants nothing more than to sleep with him, to see how things go and how it feels to be intimate with another man. He’s really the only person who he can trust with this sort of thing. It's too awkward and weird. What if he isn't even into him? Maybe he only likes men built like Zodd and Guts doesn't even come close to that, Griffith seats himself next to him, "Have you only ever been with women?"

"Yes." He answers and nervously chews on the bottom of his lip.

“Have you ever been curious?” There it is. The question he’d been waiting for, Guts was too afraid to take the lead on this, yet Griffith boldly didn’t seem to mind.

"Yes, I kind of want to try it, but only if you are." The sentence came out slow and kind of strange, but Griffith knows what he's getting at.

"Oh, you want to-" he smiles, "With me?" Guts couldn't answer with words and only nods. It's embarrassing. His face is so hot and probably so red, "Okay." The answer came as a surprise, he was prepared to be looked at weirdly or let down, but Griffith grabs his hands and pulls him from the couch.

He takes him to his bedroom. This is it, it’s actually going to happen. He’d been jerking off to his best friend’s Porn Hub account for weeks and now he’s going to bed him, "Now, it's just sex. In your case, experimental sex. No feelings attached. Understood?" Griffith holds his hand out.

"No feelings attached." Guts repeats and shakes his hand and watches as he strips right in front of him. Guts nearly forgets to do the same.

"What do you want to do?" Guts stares at his nude body. At last within arm's reach instead of behind a computer screen, "I'll let you decide." He lies on the bed. In a way, he feels thankful and honored that someone would do this for him. Let him poke and prod at their body to see if this is something he likes. It's like a free sample of food, really. Or when a scientist examines an unknown specimen.

It starts with him touching his chest, gently pinching the nipples there until they harden. There is no immediate reaction from Griffith, only a shaky sigh. He looks down at his soft cock before grabbing it within his hand. He's completely hairless down here and his, admittedly impressive, length is pinkish at the tip in hue. It's just like when he touches himself, he repeats the same hand movements he likes. Griffith quickly hardens and he shut his eyes to release a pleasured sigh.

Guts assumes he's doing something right and he leans down to suck and lick on his nipples, then travel up to his neck. Griffith must've felt his hard dick against his hip and he grabs him to stroke him as well, "Wow, you're big." He smiles.

Griffith touching him there feels infinitely times better than when he touches himself. Those full, pink lips called to him and begged to be stretched around his cock. He eyes them down hungrily, almost wants to kiss him but decides against it, "Hey, can you do that fancy stuff with your mouth?" He gestures down to himself to make a point.

"A blow job," Griffith chuckles, "It's called a blow job, Guts." He sits up and takes position, Guts’ cock is straining hard in his hand as his tongue licks away the small amount of fluid there. Warm heat envelopes him and Guts has to take a moment to calm himself, it’d be a shame if this ends sooner than either of them want.

Lovely blue eyes gaze up at him. Glassy and seemingly larger as his head bobs, “Did I ever tell you that you have beautiful eyes?” Griffith only responds with a hum of approval. Right, he should probably shut up. It’s weird telling compliments to someone whose face is buried in his crotch. He takes him easily to the base. Guts expected this level of expertise from him, “Griff, can we, uh, try something else? You might finish me off sooner than I would like.”

He pulls him out of his mouth and licks on his balls, “Like what?”

“I- I don’t know.” He blushed. Griffith only warmly smiles at him and lies on the bed next to him. This is probably the part where they’d fuck. He isn’t sure if Griffith is okay with doing something like that quite yet and he didn’t really want to ask.

Instead, he places his hands on his hips, makes him roll over onto his side and slips his cock between his thighs. He’s seen this before in many videos he’d seen. It’s as close to penetration as they’re gonna get for now. Griffith looks at him over his shoulder, “That feel good?” Guts nods, his cock slipping between his cheeks. He tensed up and pressed his rear against him, “Put it inside, it’s okay. Guts watches as his hand grabs a hold of his own ass and spreads himself to show off his tiny pink hole.

“Wha- won’t that hurt?” He gasps.

“Only a little, I’m still kind of stretched out from this morning.”

Guts looks down at his bruises on his hips, “From Zodd?”

“No, I filmed a solo session.” He answers, “I got those a while back.” He affectionately caresses his body. His smooth pale flesh is such a welcoming feeling within his palms. Guts just can’t keep his hands off of him and now the time finally comes where he can enter him.

“O-okay, I’m going to fuck you now.” He nervously warns, lining himself up and slowly breaching him. There’s some resistance and the burn from being stretched, but Griffith bears it all. He makes the same noises he made in the video. High-pitched squeals, pleasured sighs, and hushed whispers of praise. His insides are hot, tight, welcoming. He… Likes it. His pace starts off slow and gentle, “Is this okay?” 

Griffith eagerly nods, “Faster,” He moans, “Please.” Guts rolls him over onto his stomach and places himself above him. Gravity presses him inside much deeper now and Griffith all but cries out in pleasure. His pace picks up and the other raises his ass up higher when Guts grabs onto his hips for leverage. The willing body underneath him gives in easily, allows himself to be pinned down and handled in such a matter.

He’s so tight. It feels so good, almost too good like this is too good to be true. If he wakes up, he’ll surely be disappointed for the rest of the damn day. Only this isn’t a dream, it’s real. He’s balls deep in his best friend who he’s gained sexual attraction to. Griffith was nice enough to let this happen, the amount of trust he must have for him to allow himself to be his glorified experiment. Guts rolls him over to look at his face while he fucks him deep. He ponders just leaning in to kiss him, but once again stops himself. It’s just sex between friends. He needs to constantly remind himself that. Best friends don’t make out like an actual couple does while they’re fucking now do they? Do best friends even have sex with each other? Not the slightest clue, nobody has ever really been this close to him. Griffith was and still continues to be the only person who he can call a friend. His depths seized him tighter and Guts hadn’t realized he was cumming until he felt the warmth of his release on his abdomen.

He pulls out at the last second to stroke himself to completion, messily finishing on his chest with some of his load ending up on his chin. It takes a moment for his brain to render what just happened. The normal feeling of fuzziness that came after an orgasm washed away, “Did that really just-”

Griffith sits up, leaning over to retrieve a discarded towel, “Yes,” He smiles and wipes the both of them clean, “How was it for you? Did I answer any questions, better yet, did you like it?”

“Yes. It was better than I imagined.” Guts had only had sex a handful of times in his life and, out of all those times, it was always with a woman. He’d have never thought sex with another man would feel this way. What if he only feels this way for Griffith and Griffith only?

Griffith smiles, “Glad I was of help.” He watches him stand up and catches a glimpse of his ass, “Guess I need to take another shower, will you join me?”

Guts suddenly grabs his wrist, “Can we- can we do this again sometime?”

“Of course.” He replies, “I’m always DTF.”

DTF? That must stand for something. Down to fuck? It checks out, “I-” He trails off.

“What?”

“Nothing,” He sighs. This was something that is supposed to have no strings attached. No feelings, no saying “I think I’m in love with you” and shit. Just sex, strictly sex between two friends. One of which is questioning himself. Does he like sex with all men, or just with Griffith specifically? He doesn’t know, doesn’t really want to experiment with that quite yet. The thought of another man, like Zodd, touching him like that would make him freak out. He can’t tell Griffith about this, might drive him away or scare him off. He touched himself to his pornos, fucked him once, and now he thinks he’s developing fond feelings for him. Feelings that he didn’t realize he had until now. He pushes the thought out of his head, “Let’s go take that shower.”

Their fucking became more frequent. It was always Guts that came blundering to him whenever he missed the way Griffith feels within his arms and tastes. He couldn't get enough of him. His scent, his warmth, and his touch. His everything. He wanted it all for himself and he couldn’t stay away.

The face Griffith makes when he cums is the sexiest thing he's ever seen in his life. The way his back arches and when his tongue hangs out of his agape mouth. Guts consistently has to stop to remind himself not to kiss him. It's hard, he'd give anything to feel those full lips press against his own. Hell, if he wanted to, he’s sure he could finish untouched just by watching Griffith’s face and listening to his sultry moans.

“Say my name.” He slaps his already red ass, watching the flesh there lighten up for a second then deepen to the same shade of red as before, “Say it.”

“G-Guts.” Griffith whimpers. He slaps him again, harder this time, “Guts!” He shouts out louder. It was the first time he heard him utter his name and it almost made him finish prematurely. Griffith murmurs something under his breath, “Did you say something?”

“Yes, I said it hurt.”

Guts stops his thrusting and rubs his tender rear, “It does? I’m sorry.” Griffith uses this distraction to roll over and shove him onto his back.

“Gotcha.” He smirks down at him while Guts tries to fight back. His wrists are pinned down to the bed by his powerful grip.

“Sly little temptress.” His body was smaller than his, yet he could still overpower him and he knew how to use it against him in more ways than just one. Reminds him of when they used to wrestle and throw each other around. It was a common tactic Griffith used, he’d fall to the floor and hold his face like he was crying. It always made Guts feel bad, thinking he actually hurt him only to get hit in retaliation when he let his guard down. Griffith sinks himself down on his length and Guts immediately ceases his resistance to enjoy that tight, hot heat around his cock again, “No fair.”

“You’d think you’d learn your lesson by now. You always fall for that old trick.” He tuts. Of course he does. He can’t help it. Maybe his feelings and soft spots for Griffith have always been there, he just never realized it. The crease in his eyebrow deepens in thought, "Are you okay?"

"Yes." He answers. Griffith tries to say something else but Guts holds onto his hips and resumes his pace which cuts him off. He keeps it up until he finishes. It's a toe-curling, lip biting orgasm that he swears makes his ears ring.

He almost doesn't want to pull out, but Griffith is patting his hands to snap him out of his trance. He releases his iron grip on his hips and he rolls off of him. Guts almost forgets to remove the condom from his spent cock and toss it in the trash bin nearby if it hadn’t been for him staring down at him with his brow raised. Griffith sits up to fix his frizzy hair, "I tried to ask if you enjoy sex with just me specifically or with all men?"

Guts shuts his eyes. He wishes Griffith hadn't asked that again. Last time he pretended he didn't hear him, but he can't put it off any longer, "I- I'm not sure."

"What do you mean you're not sure?"

Guts rubs his face, "I just don't know!"

“Since we’ve started doing this, have you ever laid with another man?”

“No.” He sternly answers.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, "Well, do you want to know? Because you can try this with Zodd maybe-"

Guts grimaced, "Gross."

"Then there's my answer. You only want to do this with me." He states, "Tell me, why is that?"

Guts felt his heart sink. Yet another question he couldn't answer, "I guess I just don't really like other men in that way."

“Hm, but you make an exception for me?” Guts can’t answer with words, only nodding in response. Griffith lies back down, appearing to put the pieces together in his head. Shit. He knows. Guts wants to hold his hand but stops himself, "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Why didn't he tell him? Oh, because of fear of rejection or being looked at differently that’s why. This started off friends with benefits and was supposed to stay that way. Just sex. No romantic bullshit involved yet here he is. Griffith put those boundaries out for a reason. Maybe he just isn't ready for an actual relationship yet, "Because I knew you'd reject me."

Griffith laughs, "Says who?" Guts raises his brow, "Aw, Guts you shouldn't be so quick to dismiss your own feelings."

"What do you mean?" He leans in, ready to kiss him and places his hand over his.

That warm smile of his, it always made Guts feel at ease, “I would never reject you because I love you too, I always have.” It came as such a surprise to him. He’s known Griffith for some years, but never knew he left this way about him this entire time. He does a damn good job at hiding his feelings, much better than Guts can apparently, “I could never work up the will to tell you, because I didn’t think you’d like me in that way and I was afraid I’d scare you off.” It felt like he was taking the words right out of his mouth. He giggles, “Funny how I laid out that stupid rule yet here I am breaking it. I just wanted a chance to bed you because it was as close to you as I’ll ever get. Did the sex make you fall for me?” Of course it did. It aroused feelings he didn’t know he had.

Guts kisses him. There were many times in his life when he was kissed but never like this. It was better than he’d thought it’d be, having never felt this way for someone. He didn’t want it to end, but Griffith pulls away to breathe and it almost has him chasing his lips for more, “You’re my other half, Griffith.”

“And you’re mine as well.” His hands cradle his face and he pulls him closer for another kiss.

When it deepens, Guts feels the blood return to his nether regions, “You’ve gotten all me riled up again. Can we-” Griffith chuckles and allows himself to be pinned down underneath him easily. Guts fishes out another condom in the pocket from his discarded pants and hastily rolls it on himself and they sloppily kiss when he enters him. Oh, the things Griffith does to his body. He makes him hot all over, causes a pleasant warmth in his chest, makes him smile harder than he usually does. The list can go on and on, “I swear you’ll be the death of me.”

“A beautiful death.” His voluptuous voice a mere whisper in his ear. He swears loudly and holds up his leg to spear him deeper. Griffith’s body responds to him, curves and flexes from his touch. Guts seals his “O” shaped lips with his own again.

“Sing for me.” Guts thrusts inside of him harder and Griffith moans for him, “Louder.” He kisses along the expanse of his exposed neck with him responding with another louder yelp of pleasure. He takes pride in himself to know that he’s the one ripping these noises out of his throat and his name is on his lips. The feeling of a splash of wet, hot heat on his stomach lets him know Griffith is at his end. His pale body trembled beneath him and those thighs squeezed him tighter until he’s spent.

“I love you, I love you!” He repeats over and over throughout his intense orgasm that had him feeling light-headed. His hips slam into him faster while he road through his own orgasm. Griffith kisses him as he spills and groans out swear words against his lips. He kept up his pace until he was absolutely drained and overly sensitive. Guts rolls off of him, releasing an exhausted sigh through his nose, “That was even more intense than before.” States Griffith, “Wow.” He scoots himself closer towards him on the bed. Guts takes him within his arms, holds him close and tight no matter how hot he already feels. His head on his chest is a comforting weight, as is the warmth he feels within his chest, “Was I good for you?”

“Always.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❗TW: brief mentions of rape + csa

He killed someone. He actually killed someone. Not just anyone, but his own “Father” Guts didn’t mean it, he didn’t want to have to kill him yet he did. The glock in his hand was cold and heavy and squeezed the trigger. Gambino went down instantly with red completely coating his torso. Straight to the chest point blank. The noise drew attention and before he knew it, he was on the run.

Avoiding the law wasn’t easy, but it was doable within the city. The first thing he had to ditch was his cell phone. It pings at every single tower it goes near and it’s a perfect way to be tracked. He powered it off and threw it into the storm drain. His face was posted everywhere and every cop out there was looking for him. It was self defense, Gambino came at him first. Kept hitting him and beating the hell out of him and has been all his life. Nobody would believe that, there were several witnesses within ear-shot and it’ll be their word against his. He needs to run away and fast. Going out in populated areas was too dangerous, but the ache within his stomach could no longer be ignored. He’ll have to venture out to find food soon. He hadn’t eaten since it happened two days ago.

His head is covered with his hood while he sits on the park bench, shivering. Should he just give up and turn himself in? They know it was him so why bother running anymore? He was running out of options. He blew his breath over his freezing hands while he stared out over the frozen lake. A stranger hastily sped walked past him. It was odd to see someone else here at this hour. It’s early in the morning and the sun isn’t even out yet. The stranger leans on the banister of the bridge further down the path, looking straight down as if he’s going to jump.

Guts quickly stands to his feet, “Hey,” He calls out but the stranger didn’t hear him, “Wait!” The other glares his way, “Are you going to jump?”

“No, I was just seeing something. I’m not sure if they’ll buy it.” 

Guts approached him and stood next to him to lean over the guard rail, “Hmph, the height won’t kill you but hypothermia will.”

The other man looks away in thought, “I need to make it look like an accident or a crime scene, will you vouch for me?”

“Will I what?”

“I want you to go to the police and tell them you saw someone push me in.”

Guts looks at him disturbed, “Absolutely not!”

“Please? You want me to pay you or something?” Guts gives it another thought. He could really use some food right about now, but he’s too hesitant to walk into a restaurant because someone could recognize him, “Is there anything you need or want? I’ll do it for you.”

Guts sighs, “Actually, I do need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.” He nods.

The man returns with a bag of fast food. A simple cheeseburger, fries, and bottled water. Guts gobbles it all down before he could even taste it, “Wow, I didn’t think this is what you wanted.” He seats himself on the bench, “What’s your story, why are you homeless?”

“Because I did something.” He states over a mouthful of food.

“Hm, that’s really vague.” He adjusts his gloves, “What’d you do, wait let me guess. You’re a runaway, pissed at your parents?”

Guts drinks down huge gulps of water, “I’m a grown man, mind you. Actually, I hurt my father.” He adds, and by hurt he means kill. He shot the man in the chest with his own gun. In fact, he still has the gun tucked away in the hemline of his pants.

“So you ran away? I take it you ran out of money from being on your own so suddenly.”

“Actually, no I-” Guts stops himself there. He still has a pocket full of cash, “Nevermind. Enough about me. Why are you plotting your own fake death?”

The man leans back on the bench to stretch his legs, “I pissed off the wrong kingpen.”

Guts raises his brows, “Damn, what’d you do to make him so mad? You kill his best friend, no wait, you stole from him?” He shakes his head at the assumptions, “Did you beat him at his own game and make him bitter over it?”

“No,” He answers, “I fucked his daughter.” Guts nearly spits out his drink, “They came after me and shot up my house. I’ve been running from them since last week.” He reaches into his pocket to retrieve a pack of cigarettes, offering Guts one which he declines.

“Oh.” Guts comments. It was surprising to say the least, here he is thinking this man was a fellow convicted killer on the run just like him. No, he was just a daughter-fucker.

He blows the smoke out of his nose, “That’s why I wanted you to lie for me. I want to fake my death so they’d leave me alone. It’s the only way since I can’t face them myself.”

“Why don’t you just go to the police about this?”

“Because he has money and he has the cops wrapped around his finger like obedient dogs.” They stare out at the rising sun over the lake, “Besides, my criminal record isn’t exactly squeaky clean.”

Guts tuts, “What else did you do?”

“Came this close,” He gestures with his fingers, “To being thrown in jail because I would steal money from rich, filthy old bastards.” He tosses the cigarette on the icey concrete below and stomps on it, “I’ve been talking this whole time. What about you, huh? What’s your story?”

Guts couldn’t think of anything to cover his own ass so he told the truth, “I killed my father. I didn’t mean to! I- I meant to shoot past him as a warning but I just got nervous.”

“Well, I’m sure you had your reasoning. What was he doing to you to make you want to kill him?”

“I didn’t want to kill him!” Guts corrects, “I only-”

He cuts him off, “If you grabbed a gun, aimed it at someone knowing safety was off with your finger over the trigger, that means you wanted to kill them.”

Guts releases a defeated sigh, “Then I guess I wanted to kill him, then. He’d been doing nothing to me but beating the shit out of me all these years since I was a kid.” His fists ball up in frustration, “I hated him and what he did to me.”

“What did he do to you?”

Whore him out. Sold him to be raped in his own bedroom by one of his filthy ass friends. Guts couldn’t stand to look at himself in the mirror and constantly felt the need to shower, clawing at his skin until he was covered in welts, “I- I don’t want to talk about it.”

The other man looks at him pitifully, “So that’s why you can’t go to the police and lie for me. You’re a wanted man.”

Guts looks down at the empty bag of food in his hands, “So it would seem,” He states and stands up, “Thank you for the meal. Sorry about not being able to hold up my end of the bargain. I’ll make it up to you somehow. It’s probably best if we go our separate ways now, I don’t want to be seen speaking with you if the feds pull up right now.”

“Oh, okay then.” Now that the sun is coming out, Guts has a decent view of the other man’s face. He was… Attractive in a feminine way. He was always warned about people like him. Beautiful people are the ugliest on the inside. It was true. This man is just as bad as he is apparently. Surely nothing good will come from someone as wickedly pleasing to the eye as him. He spins on the ball of his foot to take his leave.

He hasn’t seen him again after that. Guts didn’t even get the guy’s name. Sometimes he’d find himself sitting at the same bench at the same park that they met at with no such luck of seeing him again as of yet. He hopes he managed to find his way out of the mess he put himself into, it’d be a shame to learn of his horrific demise. These money-laundering gangsters aren’t nothing to play with. They’ll make their enemies disappear never to be seen again, or deliberately leave them laid out somewhere to be discovered to send a message.

Lost in thought, Guts rounds an alleyway to take a piss only to walk in on something he presumes he wasn’t supposed to see. A man holding someone’s limp body in his arms and leading them towards a black car, “Easy now, we’ll take good care of you.” One of them cooed.

“What are you lookin’ at?”

Guts pauses and thinks about the gun he has stashed away on him. No, he’s in deep shit as is, the last thing he needs is to add to his body count. Should he be brought in, he could be charged with three counts of murder and be sentenced to death, “Nothing. I was just leaving.”

Whoever their victim is apparently vomits all over one of the men, “You fucking-” He punches them and they fall to the ground in a sludge puddle of dirty snow and water.

“I’m sure he won’t mind if we rough ‘em up a little.” Guts rounds the corner, but remains within earshot. He can hear them stomping out their victim as well as another punch to their face, “Sit up.” Guts glares around the corner to see one holding her up by her long hair while the other leans down to presumably talk shit and threaten her to her face.

Guts should do something. He has the power to. His stiff fingers grip the handle of the gun and he holds it up, rounding the corner and shooting one man in the back. Before the other could retrieve his gun, Guts lands a shot through his forehead. Shit. The noise will surely draw people over now, he ran over to the woman, “Hey are you-” He gasps when he realized who it was. It was the same man from before. He never realized how long his hair was, or even, what color it was underneath his hat and hood. Strikingly bright white hair like snow.

“I had that.” He drunkenly hiccups, “I was gonna do that.”

Guts picks him up within his arms, “Yeah, with what weapon?” The other man didn’t answer, only frowning and looking around, “Exactly.” They needed to get out of here. This side of town was sleazy and shootouts were fairly frequent, but Guts didn’t want any more attention drawn to himself. This area will be flooded with cops soon. The only problem was where the hell will they go?

Guts managed to get them a room at a motel on the other side of town. It was a goddamn miracle with how he managed to avoid being seen, carrying a partially unconscious stranger within his arms. It was midnight by the time he laid him down on the only bed. Guts closes the blinds and begins to strip him of his clothes. He was wet, freezing, and shivering.

“Hey!” He swats his hands away from the waistband of his pants, “You have to pay for that, asshole. Otherwise don’t touch what you can’t afford.”

Guts scoffs, “They drugged you, didn’t they?” He tries to fight back, but he’s so weak and so easily overpowered. He carries him to the bathroom and sets him down in the bathtub, “You are wet and cold. And filthy too.” He detaches the showerhead and sprays him down with warm water. Eventually, he stops fighting and leans into the warmth of the water. Guts lathers soap all over him as well as throughout his hair and then rinses it all away several times until the water runs clear.

The warmth leaves him when Guts cuts off the water, “I don’t wanna get out of the shower.”

He wraps up his form with a towel, “I didn’t ask, come out.”

“No.”

Guts easily picks him up and carries him to the bed while he protests, “Quiet down.” He dries him off, “You were almost dead back there. They would’ve killed you, you know that right?” His face is red and swollen at the lips from being punched, “Goons sent to do their boss’ dirty work. I assume they were with that kingpen you mentioned earlier.” The other man had already fallen asleep. Wet, cold, bruised. He places him underneath the blankets and takes a shower as well.

He awakens to a dark room in complete silence. Not even the tv was on and the blinds were closed. Sunshine peeks through the cracks and illuminates parts of the dark room in an orangey glow. His gaze is met with that man who he’d met on the park bench just last week, “Hey, you up?”

Guts stirs in his sleep but jolts awake when his knee is tapped on, “I am now.”

“What happened? I remember going for a quick drink, then I puked on someone.”

Guts rubs his tired eyes and aching neck from sleeping in the chair next to the bed, “You almost got abducted by a couple of underlings. They must’ve been working for that man you pissed off.”

“And what- how did you?”

Guts holds up his glock, “I took care of them.”

“Oh, I see.” He sighs, “You should’ve left me there to be taken and killed. I don’t have anything to repay you for saving my life.”

“It’s nothing, consider me repaying you for feeding me that time.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get your name, what is it?”

“It’s Guts.”

“My name is Griffith.” He laid back down on his side, “Did you sleep in that chair all night?” Guts nods and Griffith pats the empty side of the bed, “Come here, you don’t have to stay there.”

Guts smirks at him and teases, “I can’t believe you’re willing to share a bed with a convicted murderer.”

“I can’t believe you’re willing to kill for someone who you just met.” He shot back.

“You know, I could’ve violated you several ways in several positions while you were out last night.”

Griffith rolls his eyes and mocks, “And yet here we are, the following morning and I’m still unharmed. You won’t do something like that. You helped me because you care for me.”

Guts “And how could you be so sure? You don’t know me.”

“That’s true, but you don’t know me either. I could’ve easily shot you in your sleep but I didn’t. Look, I trust you. I told you everything with me back on that park bench and now I have nothing to hide. So just please, shut up and get in the bed. I’m offering you better comfort than that shitty chair can.” Guts smiles at him and hesitantly lies down. Already did he feel himself getting uncomfortable lying with another man this close in a bed like this, “You know, you and I are in the same boat at the moment. You’re running from the cops, I’m running from a pissed off gangster and the cops now too. I left vomit at the scene of the crime back there, now they’re coming for me too.”

“At this point, it’s just us now in our own world against everyone else.”

He smiles, “I guess I’m your Bonnie to your Clyde.” There was silence as Guts took that in and shut his eyes. Bonnie and Clyde were romantically involved and Guts blushed at the thought of being compared to them. He isn’t against it, but he won’t initiate it, “Let’s ditch this place together.”

Guts opens his eyes to look at him, “Do you have a car?”

“I had one but it got set on fire.” Griffith answers, “You need to run away from your crimes and miserable life and I need to disappear. There’s nothing left for us here, you know that.” Guts could've taken that car back in the alleyway, but then it would be marked as a stolen vehicle which draws too much attention. Besides, it would've been too difficult to hide. 

Guts shuts his eyes, “Fine.” He accepts, “If you betray me, so help me I’ll-”

Griffith elbows his side, “I should be saying the same thing to you, if you betray me I’ll make sure to shoot your ass dead.”

“Not if I get you first. I’m the one with the gun here.”

Griffith shoots back, “Oh yeah? You underestimate me, I can fight too you know.”

“Didn’t anybody tell you not to bring a knife to a gunfight?” Guts adds.

“With my bare hands, I bet I can beat your ass while you’re armed.”

Guts laughs, “Okay, okay. We stick together ‘till we either get out of this mess, get gunned down, or get captured. Either way, we go together. Are you with me?”

“Yes, I’m with you.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❗❗❗ TW for abuse and non-con❗❗❗

Griffith was just tending to his stallion when arms surrounded his hips. He knows exactly who it is without a doubt, "M-Marco, stop it, we're in public."

"I've longed to see you all day. Let me have this." Griffith sighs and allows himself to be hugged tight.

"What if somebody sees?" Marco dismisses his worries with a kiss. The man was shorter than him and they looked ridiculous standing next to each other like this. It doesn't matter, Griffith only pretends to give a fuck about him because of his money and that's it.

"Let me have you, just for a moment." He spins him around to face him, "Why don't we go to that barn over there?" Griffith tries to resist but allows himself to be lead by his wrist. They climb to the second level of the empty building and he hardly had time to react before he's being ushered onto a hay bale, "Just suck it, only for a moment. I'll be quick." He whispers.

It takes everything within himself to not sneer. He wasn't impressive down there at all. That pathetic stub of his is no longer than his own thumb and it feels like he's sucking on a finger. Don't even get him started on when they'd fuck. The amount of times he's had to fake moan just so it'd all be over quickly is startling. Griffith nods, "Anything for you." He hates it. He hates that he's doing this, but he's got no choice. Play along with his bullshit to get paid. The main source of large income stemmed from doing these nasty things with cheating men. He tries to make this shit quick, works him within his fist and pulls every trick he knows out of his ass to get him off. They always like it when he sucks on their sensitive tip in time with his strokes.

Suddenly, he pulls him off by his hair, "I want to be inside of you."

Griffith places his hands on his chest as he hastily crawls over him, "What? Wait, wait!" Marco pauses when he's shoved, "It'll be messy and gross, I haven't had the chance to freshen up back there."

"I'll just put it in for a second and then take it out." He insists and is already pulling off his shirt. The rough hay irritates his exposed back.

"But it'll hurt, please stop."

Marco releases his arms, "Okay," He states, "I see." While Griffith sits up to put his shirt back on, a punishing hand across his cheek stuns him, "You've got some nerve to refuse me." His eyes instantly water from the burning sensation that follows, "Mind you, I'm the one keeping your head above deep water by paying you!" He's shocked beyond comprehension. Never has Marco ever struck him like this before. The floorboards creak under his weight while he turns to leave, "You can forget about me paying you anything ever again."

"Wait," Griffith's voice cracks, "I'll let you have me now, just please-" He desperately holds onto him, "We really need you, I need you." Without Marco's money, everything would be fucked, especially since funds are already running low and it's nearing winter. Finding another nobleman to fall for him will be difficult considering how he's already got a reputation. They'd call him "Too expensive" It always tends to be the richest men who hate paying the most money for some ass despite wanting it so badly, thinking that they are owed a free fuck.

Marco sighs and rolls his eyes, "Fine, if you can get me up again, I'll maybe reconsider." Griffith gets on his knees in front of him to resume.

Guts couldn't believe what he was hearing, or what he'd seen out there. Griffith sneaking kisses to this short, ugly mother fucker. Looks like he could pass as his son since he's so short compared to him. Guts stayed hidden within the tall grass alongside the barn to watch. He couldn't hear, but he could see them clearly up ahead. What was the meaning of this? Griffith? With another man? Guts nearly broke his neck trying to run away after they turned around and started walking towards him. Shit, what if they saw? What excuse will he have for spying on them? None. Hold it together, maybe they didn't see him? Guts glances over where he last saw them, but they were gone. Hushed voices caught his attention from within the barn, they must be on the upper level.

Guts can barely hear them over the wind through the open fields of the pasture, but he manages. Hearing a harsh slap and then Griffith's panicked voice. Guts almost ran up there with his sword swinging to defend him, but stopped dead in his tracks after realizing that he doesn't even have his sword on him. The pieces fall into place in his head, Griffith being concerned about not getting paid from this because he needs to use that money to tend to them. Everyone. Guts included. He leans against the wall in defeat, it makes sense now. Money can't be spawned from nothing and Griffith knew how to twist his tongue to get what he wants from anybody. He's carrying this entire organization on his back and is willing to resort to doing such a thing to keep everything running. Guts can't find himself to listen to the following sounds of Griffith's pained groans and that hay bale sliding across the floor. He can only just stand to his feet and saunter away.

It was late. Still no sign of Griffith. He knew he should've done something when he had the chance to, leaving him alone with a man like that was a mistake. Guts is filled with overwhelming regret at the thought of something horrific happening to him when he could've stopped it. He should've charged that man and beat him with his bare hands. Guts travels blindly around camp. He was supposed to be back by now, yet he wasn't in his tent. Many dismissed him, stating, "He always does this." Or "He probably got caught up in business that doesn't include us." Or "The king gifted him with his own room, he could be in there." He supposes they're right. Griffith can very well defend himself and beat someone's ass if he wants to and he has the right to retreat to his own bedroom without telling anybody when he feels like it. Sometimes he just needs time alone, especially with what happened to him earlier. Guts wanted to tell someone about this, about what he saw and heard, but he feels it might piss Griffith off in the end. He decides to keep it to himself and keep looking for him alone. The river. Maybe he went for a quick dip? It was rather hot this evening after all.

He stops just short of the clearing. There he was, washing up just as he predicted. Guts sighs in relief, "I was starting to think you wasn't coming back for the night." He calls out.

Griffith turns around, startled but settles when he realises it was just his comrade, "I needed to cool off and wash up is all."

Guts smiles, "Don't let me disturb you. I'll be back at camp."

"Wait! Come join me." Griffith swims towards the rising slope of the river and into shallow water. The water came to his knees and Guts tried his hardest to keep his gaze up, "Come on, bathing before bed won't hurt anything." He looks so strange with his hair slicked back like this. Normally, there'd be a tuft of hair over his forehead.

"Okay." Guts strips as the other retreats into deeper water. Silvery hair lazily trails behind his form underneath the surface. The water was cool, but welcoming against his skin.

He follows him towards the middle, watching him float on his back, "This feels nice, yes?" Guts sighs and allows himself to relax, looking up at the clear sky and the half moon above. His gaze falls to Griffith instead. Shimmering skin and hypnotic eyes. Dark purple bruises on his waist caught his gaze, "I fell off my horse," He lied, "Hit the ground hard." Griffith tries to cover them by dipping himself lower into the water.

"Griffith, I saw everything." He visibly shudders after he said that, "I'm sorry, but I- I-" He pauses and stops himself unsure of what to say next.

"I only did it for money."

"I know, hey, don't be upset. I was worried about you, that man didn't seem very friendly."

Griffith releases a troubled sigh, "He used to be so nice, now he's just hot-headed. He never laid a finger on me like that before." Guts quietly listens to him continue, "But it's okay. I was paid handsomely for that earlier."

"If he ever does that shit again, I swear I'll-"

He interrupts, "Guts, it's fine. Besides, it's over for now." Griffith dips his head under the water to soak his hair and then breached the surface of the water for air, "I only called you in here because I didn't want to be alone. You can leave now if you like. I'll be fine, I actually feel a little better."

Guts raises his brows at the confession, "Oh," He begins, opening his mouth to add something else but doesn't know what. Silence looms over them as Guts nervously tries to figure out what to say, "I'm glad you feel better." Was all he could manage.

Griffith outstretched his arms, "I know you don't really like close contact with other men, but could you do me this favor?" A hug. He just wants a simple hug. Guts approaches him, trips over a rock on the riverbed and falls into his arms. He nervously laughs and corrects himself. Griffith's trembling arms wrap around his torso and he rests his head on his chest, as if trying to hide himself. Holding Griffith at such a vulnerable state. It's comforting knowing that they share this much trust between them to let their walls come down.

He lets him go and Guts immediately misses the press of his head against him and the warmth within his arms, "Are you sure you're okay?"

Griffith steps towards shallow water, "Yes, I'm okay." The warm smile he shot his way made him melt.

Everything settled for the time being, Guts made sure to hammer into Griffith's head that all he'd have to say is one word and Guts will strike down that piece of shit where he stood. For the time being, he's got to keep his cool. His horse needed her hooves cleaned and trimmed and he's got to do or else no one else will. Griffith was nearby and he's once again approached by that man. Guts remains inside the barn, but keeps watching through the large open door. They were headed this way, but this time, Guts didn't run or try to hide himself.

A nobleman wearing expensive silks and satins stepping foot inside of a filthy barn swarming with flies. He stuck out like a sore thumb, "Can I help you?" Guts asks him.

He stops at the entrance of the barn, "Nothing, just looking for a place where we can talk."

Guts leans against his horse, "What's wrong with the field over there? Nobody's around there."

"Too exposed." Griffith was staring daggers at him, silently begging him to shut up. No, not this time, "Allow us to look elsewhere." It was at this point did Guts notice swelling underneath Griffith's right eye.

"Where are you going with him?"

The short man scoffs, "None of your concern."

"It is my concern when the person you're dragging around has a black eye."

"Fine, you caught us." Marco shoves Griffith to the ground between them, "He's just a god damn whore. If you want him so bad, you can buy him off me."

He rushes to his side to help him onto his feet, "Shut up, will you? Just leave." 

"Come over here and make me shut up."

Guts' mind conjured up thoughts of punching this guy until he saw red. Hurt him just as bad as he hurt his friend. Griffith's eyes stang with the tears of humiliation and betrayal. He didn't think of anything any longer, "Say no more." He easily overwhelmed his smaller frame with a single devastating uppercut. Marco's head snapped back as he fell onto his ass, but Guts didn't stop. He didn't want to stop, "Not so tough now, huh?" Guts' fist collides with his cheek while the other man scrambles to cover his face, "Hitting on someone who won't hit back, hit me instead, I'll hit back," Marco tries to crawl away, but Guts rests his full weight onto his back, "Even harder!" Griffith watches as Guts repeatedly bashes the man's face onto the ground. He doesn't stop, no matter how loud Griffith protests and how much he bleeds. His body stops shaking beneath him when his shouts fall silent.

"Guts," Griffith calls out, "Guts, stop!" He shouts even louder this time and hugs him from behind. Only then did Guts' actions cease.

Realization hit him hard now that he's calmed down. He's kneeling in blood, his hands are covered in it and a man's mutilated face lied beneath him, "What have I done?" Griffith pulls him away and desperately tries to calm him, but Guts couldn't hear a word he was saying. He only stares at the man's body in shock.

"Guts!" His shouting snaps him out of it, "We have to make this look like an accident." Griffith unties his horse from the post and slaps her rear, causing her gallop away and stomping over the man's corpse. Guts stands to his weak knees, watching as Griffith releases every single horse in the barn, "Marco was never really good with horses, so now it looks like they got spooked, tried to run away, but ended up trampling him in the process." Guts stares down at his bloodied hands, "Does anybody know you were out here?"

Guts clears his dry throat and takes a deep breath, "No."

"Good," He grabs hold of his wrist and leads him out, "Nobody knows I was here either, same with Marco. Our relationship had to be discrete." Griffith pours the bucket of water over his hands, "Come with me, we need to get out of here." The walk back to Griffith's room felt like it took forever. Guts kept his gaze to the floor the entire time and hoped nobody noticed the crimson on the sleeves of his shirt, "The shirt, take it off." He tosses it into the fire in the hearth. Guts suddenly feels like he's freezing with his exposed skin and all, "Are you okay?"

"I think so," he answers, "I don't know."

Griffith hugs him, "It's okay, look, if anyone asks about this just say you were with me the entire time." They watch the crackling fire grow until the remnants of his shirt disintegrates.

He awakens in a fine layer of sweat. Guts tries to sit up, but there's weight over his side. Griffith's arm rests over him in comfort, "Do you feel any better?"

"Yes, just a little hot."

Griffith stands to his feet to stretch his arms above his head, "Want to, maybe, go wash up? Same place as before. We should be okay at the moment, for sure someone's discovered his remains and there were no other witnesses." Guts hesitates for a moment, but accepts. The blood on his skin wasn't going to wash itself.

The water was actually freezing tonight and Guts could barely stand it, "Fuck." He mumbles and snatches his foot away. Meanwhile, Griffith was already waist deep in.

"Oh, Guts. It's not that bad." Chuckled Griffith.

"Be quiet," He pouts, stepping further into the water and releasing a shaky sigh, "Just let me-" He trips over the same waterlogged rock and falls into the water, this time, Griffith wasn't there to catch him.

The water freezes him from head to toe. Guts quickly recovers and crosses his arms over his chest, "Well that's one way to wash up." He tries to hide his giggle but he can see right through his hand.

"Come here." Griffith tries to run but Guts grabs him.

"You're so cold!" He squeals while trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

"I'm not letting you go."

Griffith sighs and stops his struggling, "Alright, you've got me." Guts turns him around to look him in the eye. Slight redness under his eye and a lump on forehead that he just now notched. Griffith nervously clears his throat, "I got sick of him hitting me so I fought back and he didn't take too kindly to that."

He gently caresses his cheek with his rough palm, "I'm surprised you didn't just kill the fucker yourself. You were presented with the opportunity to several times."

"I could've. He was such a small man and I could've easily overpowered him, but I didn't do that because he was paying the most," Griffith explains, "I don't know what I'm going to do, with him gone, there goes the monthly funds."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, asshole had it coming if you ask me." Guts chuckles at his remark. The moon is full and bright tonight. He glows like silver underneath its light and Guts couldn't help but feel entranced by his beauty. He presses his forehead against his as they enclose each other with their arms. Griffith wants him to kiss him so badly. His spine stiffened and his eyes shut with his head tilting back. Guts finally picks up on his hints and their lips lock. It starts off innocent enough, until Guts starts doing something with his tongue that makes Griffith's eyes widen in shock. He pulls away and Griffith is gasping for air, "Shit, who taught you that?"

"Nobody. I kind of made it up as I went along." He cheekily grins.

"Do it again." They feverishly locked lips and pulled each other closer. Griffith moans against his lips while wandering hands grope his rear.

"Is this okay?" He nods and Guts picks him up into his arms. His strong legs encircle around his waist. Guts holds him until he eventually tires out, "Damn, you're a lot heavier than you look." Griffith says nothing in response, only reaching down to place his hand on his abdomen.

"Hm, what's this pressing against me?"

Guts was hard and he got even harder when Griffith took him in his hand. Two can play it that game. He grabs hold of Griffith's cock and earns a reaction out of him, "I should ask you the same thing." They stroke each other faster, as if racing to see who will finish first. Griffith nibbles on his neck and then kisses down to his chest where he sucks on a hardening nipple. He flinches from the action and it sends chills down his spine. Guts speeds up his hand and so does he, but Griffith is close. He can tell based on the way his stroking falls out of rhythm. His knees buckle and he moans out loud. Griffith leans against him, thrusting into his hand until he finishes into his palm and under the water.

His weak body leans against his with Guts supports his weight and kisses him on the cheek, "Damn," He sighs, "Been a long time since I've felt something like that."

"Come on, we should get out of the water and dry off before we get sick or something." 

"But what about you?"

"I'll be okay, we can pick this up once we get some place warm," The air bites against his wet skin and he starts to shiver. His hard cock softened instantly from the cold, "We should go back to that bedroom of yours instead of camp." They quickly dress in silence, not caring that their clothes are still wet as they made a dash towards shelter.

Griffith starts up the fire again and removes his wet clothes. Guts joins him, kneeling in front of the hearth to warm himself, "Now, come here. I'm not quite finished with you yet." Griffith seductively bites his lower lip and straddles him while they share a deep kiss.

Cold noses press against one another, tongues swirl against the other and their hips rock into each other's warmth. Griffith kisses down his neck, over his toned abdomen and then down his hardness. Guts isn't prepared for the warm heat that envelopes him. He bobs his head up and down while taking him as far as he could manage until he coughs. Guts watches him all throughout until his attention happens upon his raised ass, "What are you staring at?" He grins.

"Nothing, it's just-" Guts hesitates for a moment, "Nothing."

"What is it?"

He rubs the back of his neck, "When you s-sleep with other men, does it hurt when they-" he pauses to gesture vaguely with his hands, "You know."

Griffith giggles, amused at his bewilderment, "Only if there isn't any preparation. I know you want to do that."

"What? N-no I don't, well I mean, only if you're okay with that." Guts corrected.

"It'll have to be some other time, when I'm flushed out and clean, otherwise it'll be disgusting for the both of us."

Guts nods, "Ah, I see." 

"In the meantime, I know something else we could do that comes close to penetration." He proposes. Guts watches as he resumes sucking him off, leaving behind a copious amount of saliva completely coating his cock.

"Griffith?" He bends over in front of him, presenting that perfect pale ass of his and Guts takes his place behind him. He isn't sure what to do next, so Griffith guides his length between his thighs. His body reacts instantly to the stimulation. Tight heat surrounding him completely. Guts stifled a moan of his own and his hips moved on their own accord. He couldn't stop himself even if he tried. His cock needed release as soon as possible. Griffith sighs in pleasure below him, looking down at himself to watch Guts' cock slip between his thighs and underneath his balls.

"Guts," He moans, "Faster."

He slams into the heat as fast as he could manage, no matter how hard his knees strain from the stress, "I'm close, oh fuck." His voice grits out between his teeth and clenched jaw. Griffith tries his hardest to keep his thighs tightly together until he can finish. Streaks of warm white semen paint his inner thighs before he pulls away to finish the remainder of his orgasm on his ass and lower back. He grinds himself between his cheeks, watching Griffith's perfect body tense up when his blunt cockhead catches on his entrance. It clenched shut around nothing in reaction. It's messy, but the sexiest thing he's ever seen. Beautiful pale skin with streaks of his semen littering across it.

Griffith turns around to look at him, "Looks like I need another bath." He jokes, "Pass me that towel over there." Guts does as told and watches him clean himself up, "Come here, let's go to bed."

"Together? What if somebody walks in and sees us?"

"Nobody's going to barge in here, Guts." He reassures, "People around here aren't barbarians because they knock before entering."

Guts glared at the nearby couch, it was small, but manageable, "Seriously, I can sleep right here, then leave in the morning before anyone sees."

"Hey," He pats the empty space of the bed next to him, "Get over here." Guts tuts and shrugs before laying down next to him. He pulls him closer for warmth and Griffith kisses him one more time for the night.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for a short zombie au nobody asked for

They'd been separated from everyone else for days. They have no idea where they could've gone, or even what direction they ran off to. Guts managed to find Griffith, but neither of them know what to do from here on. After some arguing, they've agreed to just stay inside of this run-down house for the night and stay as quiet as they can muster. It wasn't in the best condition, but it'll have to do.

Griffith scavenged through cabinets. Not even a scrap of food. He opens the fridge, expecting to find nothing and that is exactly what he got, "Sit down and give it a rest, you're making noise with every movement you make." Guts states in annoyance.

"Just trying to find us something." No food, no water, no medical supplies. This house had been raided for all of its resources before they came.

Guts places his gun over his lap and idly picks dirt from it, "Would you just come over here and sit down? There's nothing in here. Get some rest so we can get out of here."

"What about the others, hm?" Griffith asks, "We just leave them here, wondering if we're still alive?"

Guts hushes him, "Keep your voice down, this house is small, noise can be easily heard. Bad enough we're in the heart of the city where it's most populated and there's plenty of those ghouls running around outside."

Griffith takes a seat next to him and sets his bag down on the floor, "I say we find the others first."

"And I say we get out of the city, either they'll catch up with us or they don't. Simple."

He rests his head on the armrest, "Hm, fine." The city, no, the world was overrun with a contagious infection that killed everything seemingly overnight. If one didn't slowly die from the disease, they'd turn into something worse. It started with small, pop ups in major cities but grew out of control when science or religion couldn't save anybody.   
Nobody knows where it started from, or what animal unknowingly infected a human. Some believe it is man-made in an attempt to control the population. The military helped tremendously. This city used to be a barricaded safe zone until someone slipped through unnoticed. It has fallen and there is nothing safe about it anymore. The military probably can't even save themselves, let alone others. They've been separated from everyone else during the chaos. Rickert, Casca, Corkus. Everybody. Neither of them know if they are still even alive. Last time Guts saw them, they had to scatter in panic after the infected started to charge and attack survivors. Then the military started gunning down anything that moved as a last ditch effort to eliminate the threat.

Guts hopes somehow they've made it out too and are attempting to leave this burning city. It was a mistake coming here in the first place. They should've never turned on that God forbidden radio that led them all to their dooms in a false sense of security that only lasted a week. Griffith had already fallen asleep right next to him after only sitting down for a minute or two. He must've been exhausted, Guts is too but he can't sleep. Someone has to keep watch.

Something tapping at his leg awakens him. Looks like he'd fallen asleep after all. No matter, they're still alive aren't they? "Get up, we should go." Griffith whispers, "I think I hear gunshots and they're getting louder." Guts quickly rose to his feet, "Whoever they might be, I don't want to take any chances, we're outnumbered and we don't have nearly enough gun power to scare them off."

Right. They should play it safe. Assume any other survivors who aren't their friends are a threat who will rob them for everything they've got. They meticulously sneak out of the house through the backdoor and walk down the alleyway. So far, so good. It's quiet, save for the distant anguished screams of the infected. They're unpredictable, dangerous, and violent. Sometimes they'd stand still in complete silence, staring at the ground, then the next, they're sprinting towards you in an instant with the intent to kill. Hell, sometimes, they even hurt themselves, and can still form coherent words. One bite and it's all over, "Wait, look." Guts points to an undisturbed single car garage.

"What about it?" Griffith questions.

"It has no damage done to it, that means nobody could've taken the car inside."

He chuckles, "Oh that's great. Good luck finding the keys to both it and the car if there's even one in there."

Guts presses his ear against the metal door, "It's definitely one in there that has been used recently. I can hear the metal clicking from the heat of the engine." He grabs his wrist and leads him towards the house, "We have to find the key. If we can get a car, we can make it out of here alive."

The backdoor was still, oddly enough, intact. An out of place occurrence given how every building in this area has been broken into and looted, "I'll go check upstairs." Whispered Griffith, pulling out his glock and switching off the safety with a click. Guts watches as he carefully tip-toes along the wall to avoid the squeaky floorboards. The first floor is clear. Nothing was out of place or destroyed while he searches in drawers and cabinets for the key. He managed to find a decent stack of canned foods in the lazy Susan. Corn, meat, fruit. It'll come in handy.

Griffith practically hugged the wall, balancing on his toes. Wooden stairs and floors are noisy. The last thing he needs is one of those ghouls getting the jump on him. The open door to the bathroom was clear. Nothing and nobody inside, though he's sure there's got to be some form of medicine in there, but he'll come back for that later. The doorway to his left, master bedroom. Nothing in there either. His gaze follows the red drops of blood on the runner as well as scattered wooden shards of what remains of the door to the end of the hallway. Something got in here, no doubt about it. He raises his gun and steps closer until he hears something wet and smacking. Griffith peeks around the corner and his eyes widen in shock.

A man slumped over a woman, gnawing at something within his hands. Her stomach had been chewed through and Griffith assumes that to be an organ in his hands. Their eyes lock. Eyes so bloodshot they appear completely red and what appeared to be tears going down his cheeks mixed with the blood there, "I-I'm coming back home to pick you up, honey. S-stay inside until I get there." He states.

Griffith raises his brows. That must've been the last thing he said before the infection overwhelmed him. Was probably rushing back home to check on his wife. At least that's what he presumed. She probably ran into this room and locked herself inside until he eventually broke through the door. He pulls the trigger to put the man out of his endless torment. His body slumps over immediately when the bullet landed between his eyes. Griffith looks around. Blue walls, a rocking chair in the corner. A crib on the other side of the room. A nursery. Guts came rushing in behind him with his gun drawn, "What was that, you okay?" He gasps at the grizzly scene.

The white carpet stained with blood, "I feel bad for them," He began, "At least it's over now."

Guts frowns at the two bodies at the center of the room, "He didn't touch you, did he?"

Griffith steps over the remains and walks towards the crib, "No."

"Good, well I found the keys." He holds them up and jiggles them around, pausing when Griffith scoops up an infant within his arms, "No, absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" Mimicked Guts, "I don't know, Griffith. Maybe it's because we're in living hell right now and it's the end of the world as we know it? And you're telling me you want to play house, I'm daddy and you're mommy, huh?" He returns to his side to pull down the blanket and show the child's sleeping face, "The last thing we need right now is another mouth to feed, let alone one that can't even eat solid food." He couldn't be older than a month.

"I can find something. Here, hold him." Guts begrudgingly holds out his arms to receive him.

"There is nothing around here for that. I didn't see any formula in the fridge. Why don't you go to the store and get us some water while you're at it, mommy?" Everything he said went in one ear then out the other. There was no changing his mind. We don't need a kid, Griffith, they're too noisy and this one is too hard to take care of."

Griffith hastily tosses diapers and other necessities into his bag, "So you suggest we let him slowly starve to death here? I want to give him a chance. It's inhumane to leave him."

"Fine then, if we're going there, do you want me to put him down so he wouldn't have to suffer?"

He swings his bag over his shoulder and quickly snatches the child away, "No! You monster-"

"Do you want to put him down?" Griffith shakes his head, "Alright then, so shut your mouth and leave him here with what remains of his parents. The last thing we need is a loud crying baby drawing 'attention' to us when we decide to stop. It's inhumane to have to draw out his pain and make him grow up in an already broken world just so he can end up dying anyways."

His gaze hardens a frown, "Leave him here with the remains of his parents you say? I bet the person who picked you up off the ground and gave you a second chance at life instead of leaving you with the remains of your mother would disagree."

Guts is stunned silent and cut off from speaking. He just had to go there and fuck him up with that. After some silence and Griffith's defiant stare, he sighs in defeat, "Fine, have it your way." He storms off and Griffith hastily follows, "But the moment that kid starts starving and then crying non-stop is the moment I put a bullet in his head."

"You will do no such thing."

They've gotten out of the city with the car, far far away from it. A couple day's worth of distance between them. That eliminates the threat of coming into contact with people and ghouls, though another issue arises. That damn infant wouldn't stop crying. His diaper was clean, he wasn't teething yet. He's just hungry and neither of them can do anything about it. His ribs were already beginning to show beneath his skin, "Let me kill him." Guts squeezes the steering wheel in frustration, "You're just denying the inevitable and drawing out his suffering. Let me end it."

"No!" Exclaimed Griffith, clutching the newborn to his chest.

Guts was just about to snap but then the tires blew out. They are forced to stop on the side of the dirt road, "Shit." He glances at Griffith who is staring at something straight ahead.

Several gunmen take aim at them and Griffith rolls down the window, "We're just passing through, please we have a kid."

Guts couldn't make any sudden moves. His gun was too far down to reach, "Wait, Griffith? Is that you?"

"Casca!" He yelled and she approached their car so they could see her through the dust. Sure enough, it was her.

"Well I'll be damned." Corkus leans down to look at Guts through the window, "You're a lot less ugly at this angle."

He purposely swings the door open to hit him, "Shut up, look who's talking." Guts jokes.

"Damn, sorry about your car, we thought you were going to rob this place. We saw you guys coming in the distance."

Guts stands up and stretches his back out, "Believe me, you're doing me a favor, giving me an excuse to get out of there and away from him." He points towards Griffith.

"Griff with a baby? Really?" Guts nods in disappointment, "Just when I thought I'd seen it all." He escorts them down the road. A tiny little town rests here. So small and minor it didn't even appear on the gps in the car.

"Where's everyone else?" Griffith asks.

"They're inside the store waiting for us." Casca answers, "Come on, let's get you guys something to eat and drink."

They are reunited with everyone they thought they'd lost. Corkus, Casca, Rickert, Pippin. Everyone is here, "We had some unwanted guests here when we showed up, but we ran 'em out." Explained Corkus, "And by ran out I mean killed. They started shooting at us first."

Griffith zones out of the conversation to look down at the child in his arms. He's finally stopped crying, but that's only because he cried himself to sleep. The looming issue of starvation still remained. Maybe Guts was right. Prolonging his suffering for no reason at all was just selfish of him, "Excuse me, he needs to be changed." He lies.

He carries him into the storage room and places him inside of a box filled with styrofoam then draws his weapon. His hands shake when his finger touches the trigger. It's a stationary target. He can't possibly miss, it'll be easy. Just one shot and it's all over, "I'm sorry." Griffith whispers. It'll be all over soon. He pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. Safety was on, of course it was. He switches it off then aims again, now he can't even bring himself to put any pressure on the trigger, "Look away and then squeeze it." He trains his eyes to a lone piece of styrofoam on the floor, "Fuck." Griffith swears, "I can't do this. What am I doing?" Give him to Guts and tell him to do it, that could work since he doesn't seem to have an issue with killing children.

The baby stirs in his sleep when Griffith picks him back up and then returns to the main floor of the store. Everyone was gathered at its center, talking and laughing. Some were noticeably missing, presumably outside somewhere to keep watch, "Has anyone seen Guts?"

"Last I saw him, he said he was going to the roof." Answered Casca.

He follows the direction of her head gesture, going up the stairs and swinging open the heavy door to the roof. Guts sat alone with his legs dangling over the ledge. They haven't spoken since Griffith decided to adopt this child, "Hey."

"Hello" Guts replies back, "I see you've brought the noise maker with you."

"Oh, stop it, you. He's quiet now." Griffith seats himself behind him.

"You sure he isn't dead?"

"Yes, I'm sure." He looks at his round face and then up to Guts' back. The sky is so bright out here. Nothing like the city. Don't get distracted, just ask him. Griffith stutters with his words for a moment, "I," He began but stops himself.

Guts turns to look at him, "What?" Only silence from Griffith this time, "What?"

"It's nothing, I was just going to ask if you-" He pauses to release a sigh, "Were going to finish your cup of noodles." A last second improvised sentence. He wasn't even hungry.

Guts looks down at the cup in his hand, "Nah, you can have it." Griffith holds the still hot food item in one of his hands, "You know, I owe you an apology."

"What for?"

"For being so quick to give up on the little noise maker. I don't even know why I was so against you taking him," He began, "It isn't like we were on foot for that long. We were in the car the entire time so his constant crying couldn't really give us away. And he can't eat yet so it's not like we had to ration anything."

Griffith smiles and nods, "Yeah, you were a massive, heartless, scummy, ruthless-"

"Okay, I get it. Now you're just being mean." Jokes Guts.

He stands to his feet, "Well then, I'm off to get some rest."

"Alright, goodnight."

Guts had fallen asleep there on the roof. He's lucky he didn't roll and fall off. The morning sun blinds him when he sits up to stretch. He should go and check on the others, starting with Griffith.

"Has anyone seen Griffith?"

Rickert sits up, "No, I've been asleep this whole time." Guts exits the store and looks around. Where could he have possibly gone? There's no way he went off all alone out there. What would even be the reason for ditching everyone. It's not like he stole all of their supplies and ran off with it. He walks towards the end of the street where the small sheriff's office was, calling out his name. He wasn't here. Guts walks back towards the other end of the street, the direction where they came from. Upon reaching the end where the buildings stopped, he spots him out in the grassy field nearby, "Griffith!" He calls out again and rushes towards him.

What is with this odd behavior? He doesn't normally separate himself like this and not tell anybody where he's going. Shit, what if he had been bitten, or scratched even. Could that little noise maker's father have infected him? Guts stops just behind him and slowly approaches. He's kneeling and looking down. He gets closer and trips over a shovel. What he expected to see was bloodshot, red eyes looking back at him when he turned to look over his shoulder, instead all he saw was his face red with puffy, teary eyes, "He's gone."

Guts' heart feels like it has sank down into his stomach, "Aw, I'm sorry." He sits down next to his grieving friend who leans on him for comfort, "You've done all you could, there was nothing else you could've done." Griffith sniffles loudly, "You were just one man trying to raise an infant in this dying world."

"It just isn't fair. I tried so hard and still failed. You were right. All I did was deny the inevitable." He rants, "I saw this coming, but it still hurts. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so bad if I had let you put him down like a sick dog."

"But he was no dog, he was a child." Guts pats his back. They sit in silence for a long time until Griffith's tears stop, "Have you ever given him a name?"

Griffith wipes away the wetness from his cheeks, "I have, actually. I named him Guts."

He chuckles, expecting that to be a joke, but he was serious. Guts' smile fades, "Really?"

"Yes." The other man answered. Thunder rumbles off in the distance. A huge wall of dark clouds was headed this way and the sun disappeared behind the clouds, "Sounds like our signal to go inside." Griffith stands up and pulls Guts to his feet with his hand.

They walk back towards town and Griffith looks back at the unmarked grave then back ahead of him. The bright red feathers of a cardinal perched upon a low hanging tree branch catches his eye as it sings its song, looks at him, then flies away, "Hey, you coming or what?" Guts calls out when he released Griffith had fallen behind.

"Yes, I'm coming."


End file.
